Attraction
by ZS Fan
Summary: Moira learns to deal with her unrequited love for Charles. Erik/Charles from Moira's POV.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: It's quite ironic really, I used to really dislike Moira's character in the movie and even after it. But after reading a few really realistic and good X-Men First Class fics, I've changed my view on her. I've even grown so fond of her character as to write a story from her point of view on her affection for Charles. This story is my attempt of a character study on Moira which showcases the changing nature of Charles's and Erik's relationship in First Class through her eyes._

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><p>Moira has never denied her attraction to Charles.<p>

It did not come as a surprise to her – Charles was the perfect English gentleman with his sparkling, earnest blue eyes and sincere, charming smile, with a set of ambitious ideals to match, which she had always been in admiration of. He was, dare she say it, as pure a man as any man could be and it was only natural for anyone to be attracted to him.

Of course, her practiced eye did not miss the tint of arrogance in his sometimes sly smile, the glint of pride in his blue eyes when he was proving a point with smooth ease. Neither did she miss the way his hidden hubris brought him to the thought, to the improbable ambition of mutants being accepted in human society.

Charles's dream, would be, to others whom did not know him, merely a dream. But Moira knew better, she knew that for all his arrogance and pride, he was not someone to speak of things he would not be able to accomplish. He was a man whom never went back on his word, and it was one of the things Moira respected greatly about him when she had first gotten to know Charles Xavier.

Moira would not deny that she had fallen for Charles. She had fallen for the rich English man with his, ironically, selfless dream, his deep blue eyes and the genuineness and sincerity in every word he spoke.

She had not been as surprised as she should have been when she had learnt of Charles's telepathy. Moira had been working with the CIA for a long time and when she had first met Charles, even through the panic and fear at the memory of the recent shocking event she had witnessed, she couldn't help but notice how behind his blue eyes there was knowledge, not only scientific and intellectual knowledge but also knowledge of dark, mournful things, knowledge of things many people including her would never ever get the chance to access and fully understand. There was a kind of sadness infused with wisdom in his very gaze, and that, in Moira's eyes, gave Charles as high a standing as her superiors in the CIA, and eventually, placed him on a greater pedestal than them.

Sometimes, Moira lets herself dream. Sometimes, when she isn't rushing around making various calls, she allows herself to quietly put all other matters to the side and do the one thing her busy life has not given her much chance to do – imagine.

When there is no work to be done, Moira relaxes. She heads silently to her quarters, as far away as Charles from possible and sheds her role of a CIA agent.

Moira has never fallen in love before. Charles Xavier is her first love. And like everything else which interests her, she takes time to explore it, time to discover this new strange sensation which sends her heart thumping wildly in her chest in a way it never has in all her missions before, makes her throat feel the slightest bit dry at the sight of the telepath, makes her drown in the calming depths of his deep blue eyes.

Moira knows she is a logical woman. But she is still a woman, a woman currently in love, and when she closes her eyes she smiles as she imagines what it would feel like to have Charles by her side as her lover, to be able to wake up every morning to Charles's charming smile on that handsome face with its aristocratic features and pretty blue eyes, which she thinks with a small secret grin, are probably prettier than those belonging to any woman Charles has ever flirted with.

But she is aware it is only her imagination, only a dream. When she opens her eyes, she smiles a sad smile and brushes away the last vestiges of her indulgence, and prepares herself to head back to work.

Unlike Charles, she does not have the power to make her dream come true.

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><p>Moira has never wanted Charles to put himself in danger.<p>

So when he yells and dives into the water, swimming frantically to a man she can barely see in the darkness of the night, it takes almost all of her willpower to stay on the ship and not follow Charles into the freezing cold.

It would be a truly illogical course of action, especially given her occupation.

Charles has always been too kind, but it is only now that Moira thinks him to be naïve as he submerges himself underwater and her heart stops for a single beat as they lose sight of him completely.

She cannot remember if she screams, screams for him to come back to them despite knowing he would not be able to hear her. But she remembers thinking, her mind a frantic flurry in which it has never been before, praying that Charles will leave the stubborn man and come back to them, which is more logical considering his telepathy.

When Charles emerges with the dark figure, Moira feels her heart involuntarily jerk. Her eyes widen in relief and she inhales, calming her mind. Charles does not need to know how frightened she was.

She gives orders like a military sergeant and it isn't long before Charles and the person- no, _mutant_ he has seem to have rescued are on the ship. They are both soaked to the bone, and Charles is shivering and panting, clearly exhausted, but manages to ask.

"Are you alright?"

For a foolish moment she thinks he is talking to her. Her heart skips a beat at him having understood her feelings – but then the man beside Charles turns to him and breathes out.

"Yeah." There is a slight pause. "Thanks."

The hope dies out of Moira's eyes as Charles smiles at the stranger, a tinge of something in his eyes which she cannot identify. "I am glad."

"Charles," she finally speaks. She looks at him, not as a CIA agent but as a person more than concerned for his well being. Her tone is almost urgent as she speaks, as if she feels the need to clarify something, to prove it. "Charles, are you alright?"

She doesn't know why she is being so out of her element, asking such a foolish, obvious question which Charles takes no offence to with his usual smile. "I am fine, Moira. Please, there is no need to worry about me."

Moira wants to say she is glad, wants to say that yes, there is a need for her to worry about him because she has never known him to be so ridiculously reckless- but she keeps her mouth shut, making sure none of her thoughts stray to Charles. He is cold, wet and tired; the last thing he needs is her protectiveness and the first thing he needs is a towel-

"Here."

It is almost comical how Charles and her blink at the same time at the towel thrust in front of Charles's surprised face. But then he smiles at the newcomer, despite the cold night air, despite the freezing water, and says with a genuine gratefulness as he receives the towel. "Thank you, Erik."

Erik does not reply, but there is a slight quirk to his lips; Moira knows this as she has turned her gaze on him, unsure whether to be grateful to him for providing Charles with a towel or envious of him for doing so before she could.

Instead, she holds out her hand. Erik has dried himself off as much as possible and she fills the awkward silence by speaking, "Moira McTaggert, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Erik does not take her hand. He looks at her, looks at her as if he has just noticed her presence beside Charles. "Erik Lensherr."

"I see." Moira says, and drops her hand. She looks at Erik, looks and scans him with the expertise of her field as something unspoken passes between them.

Charles is still squeezing water out of his clothes and drying himself with the towel. Moira has no wish for him to catch a cold. She meets Erik's cold, hard gaze for a moment more before turning around.

"It's freezing out here. We should all get inside."


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: Wow, I think this is the first time any of my stories has received so much response so early. Thank you everyone for reading and thank you again to those who reviewed :) Your reviews have encouraged me to write more. I hope you will enjoy reading this chapter. Even if it is not as exciting as I wanted it to be, it is twice as long._

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><p>Moira has always been aware that Erik is a cold, hard man, with a gaze which held warning in itself of his dangerous nature.<p>

Part of her knowledge came from the contents of his CIA file, labeling him as a survivor of the Holocaust. She hadn't needed to read further to know what he had done to ensure his survival – and revenge.

Similar to Charles, Erik knows of dark things, dark secrets of human nature which few beings are even aware of. But there was one stark contrast – and it lied in the fact that Charles had more likely than not gained his knowledge from his power; while Erik's knowledge came from nothing but experience – and experience alone.

She tries not to imagine the life of survival Erik must have led. She tries not to imagine what it was like for a young boy, a young child to have been eternally separated from his parents while struggling to control his own mutation, an unknown power he had feared for long. She does not wonder long about the things he experienced, the darkness and torture of the Holocaust which had cultivated, crafted an innocent boy with its corrupted hands into this dangerous, vengeful and ruthless man she sees before her.

Moira is aware that Charles knows the same thing about Erik that she does – and probably more. She sees Charles with Erik, talking and even making some light banter and treating him like he treats everyone else – and she wonders how he can cope with Erik with his power; how can he not recoil even slightly at the waves of seething rage and anger and thoughts of unfulfilled revenge which he is likely to be feeling from the Holocaust survivor endlessly.

Moira sighs at the thought, before bringing herself back to reality.

They are in a truck, driving towards Russian territory. Moira knows they are taking a dangerous risk, that the Russians would no doubt open fire if they found out their true identity.

But she is a CIA agent used to the idea of taking risks, even open to them, and her voice does not tremble when she speaks politely to the guards that they are merely coming to check in on their farm.

She watches silently as the guards eye them with clear suspicion, before they turn away and proceed to the back of the truck, shouting orders. She shows no visible reaction when she hears the back doors being flung open, but is unable to resist catching her breath.

Moira trusts Charles and his power. She knows that he has his fingers to the side of his head and is concentrating hard in their guise of invisibility while his other hand is on Erik's arm, reassuring him to not panic and go on the offence because he has the confidence they cannot even be seen.

There is utter silence for a moment, which breaks with the sound of the guards' muttering that there is nothing there. They slam the doors closed. Moira lets out a quiet breath she does not know she was holding and, with the guards' permission, proceeds to drive towards the now open and dangerous Russian ground.

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><p>It is a whole other matter when they are well hidden within the bushes. They have all come down from the truck and are watching the guarded mansion in front of them with various emotions in their eyes.<p>

It does not take long for Moira to catch glimpse of a blonde woman, a familiar blonde woman in white making her leisurely way towards the guards. Her brown eyes widen and she whispers to Charles who is beside her.

Charles frowns a little and does his classic gesture of telepathy. Moira does not disturb him and waits, looking out into the distance.

There is a guard at the doors of the mansion. Moira's sharp eye catches him flinching, before going stock still, as still as the telepath beside her. She sees his gaze turn to the blonde woman whom she had seen turn into diamond, who is standing near a fairly old man whom seems to be the head of the guards, leaning forward and whispering in what she guesses is a seductive voice.

The old guard gives her leeway and allows her to proceed, which she does so with a hint of triumph in her prideful saunter. The guard who was watching them turns his gaze away and flinches again, eyes clearing, and Moira turns her attention back to Charles.

Part of her is admiring the extent of the power of his telepathy as they listen to him speak simply, "Shaw is not coming."

"If that's the case, we should retreat," she replies, locking her gaze with his. "There's no use in staying here."

"No." A rough voice says.

Moira blinks and looks at Erik, who is not looking back at her. He has his gaze trained in front of him, having been so silent she had almost forgotten about his presence.

"Erik," Charles reaches out to him, trying to meet his eyes. "Shaw isn't here."

Erik seems to ignore him, his hard gaze never leaving the scene in front of him. When he next speaks, it is in a low voice, infused with repressed anger and that something dark which had compelled him to burn and wreck Shaw's ship with its own anchor the day they had first met.

"She's his right-hand woman. That's more than enough."

"No!" Moira hears herself hissing quietly. It didn't take a telepath to tell what Erik was planning on doing. "The CIA can't raid a Russian mansion out of the blue!"

Erik finally looks at her, but it is an impatient look, with anger behind his eyes. "I'm not the CIA."

Paying no heed to Charles's shout, he dashes out of the bushes. Moira watches in surprise and frustration as he uses his power over metal to rid the guards of their weapons, to control metal wires and violently strangle and subdue them as he infiltrates the mansion with only one goal in mind.

"Erik!" Charles is shouting again amongst the commotion, moving to rise, and Moira finds herself reaching out to him just as he had reached out to Erik just moments before.

Charles is panicking, panicking even more than the time before he had dove into the sea to rescue Erik. His blue eyes are filled with frustration and surprise but most of all, worry, worry for the reckless man who had no care for the risk of exposing his presence to the enemy. She can imagine thoughts flying around in his head, and she doesn't even get the chance to speak his name before he turns to her.

"I'm sorry," Charles meets her wide eyes, guilt overpowered by his worry for Erik. "But I can't leave him."

There is a heavy resolution in his very voice, and Moira does not even have the energy to call out his name as he leaves the safety of the bushes and sprints forward towards incoming danger.

Moira is immediately worried for him. Despite his power, Charles is not suited to be on the field. He is the strategist of the team, the one who calculates, computes, formulates their various courses of action with the assistance of his telepathy. His background of being an Oxford graduate, someone whom had spent the majority of his life dealing with academics, did not help the current situation he had uncharacteristically plunged himself into either.

And unlike Erik, Charles does not have the ability to deflect metal bullets.

The next emotion which assaults her mind is relief – relief that Erik has disarmed the men outside of their guns; relief that that is probably what he will do to the men inside the mansion as well. She almost feels a sick sense of amusement at her sudden appreciation of Erik's thorough way of doing things- namely, carrying out his revenge.

However she is still worried and the appreciation for Erik unknowingly ensuring Charles's safety soon disintegrates as she feels for her hidden gun and for a split second thinks of following the two men.

"What should we do, Agent McTaggert?"

With those words, she is jerked back to her position. Moira blinks, and shakes her head. Her fingers slowly release their taut hold on her gun, and she sighs as she remembers her role.

"Let's retreat for now."

* * *

><p>"Moira."<p>

The CIA agent is so lost in thought she almost starts at the sound of her name. She turns around from where she is standing near the truck, to the sight of Charles smiling at her.

"Charles!"

Charles looks so tired his smile doesn't even seem to have its usual charm. She moves towards him, the notion grating on her nerves, until a familiar low voice speaks.

"We've captured Shaw's right-hand woman," Erik says bluntly. "Make sure the CIA investigates her thoroughly."

"Erik." Charles says, for what reason she doesn't know – maybe because he knows what _she_ wants to say to Erik; not only to not order her around but also that he does not have the right to put Charles in danger _again_-

Somewhere between the sight of Erik's emotionless gaze and Charles's weary features, Moira snaps.

"Firstly, you are _not_ my Boss," anger is bubbling up in her as she glowers harshly at the tall man. "Secondly, how could you?"

Erik raises an eyebrow at her unflinchingly. "Excuse me?"

Moira ignores him. "Not only did you act without thinking of the consequences for the CIA," she is speaking sharply, fist clenched. "But you also didn't think twice of putting Charles in danger, _again._"

"Nothing particularly bad happened," Erik replies, still unflinching, but anger is rising up in his cold green eyes. "And Charles followed me of his own volition."

"Of course – did you really expect him to stay put and leave a comrade alone in danger?"

"Are you implying I'm at fault?"

Erik is angry, she can see it in his eyes, and she feels a sense of grim satisfaction at having made the stoic man show emotion.

"You don't deserve him." The words leave her lips before she is aware.

Erik is still glaring at her, but there is a look in his eyes which shows he is not entirely unaffected by her scathing words. He lifts his hand, and she is suddenly conscious of the metal around her neck.

Just as she thinks he is going to strangle her like he had done with the guards, Erik's hand falls. He glares at her one last time before striding purposefully away. She is tempted to shout after him, but resists the urge.

"Moira…please."

Even in her red haze of anger, she recognizes the voice. She turns her gaze to Charles, who is no longer smiling.

Instantly, she feels a sharp stab of guilt. "Charles."

He looks at her silently with what she hopes isn't disappointment in his blue eyes. She almost expects him to communicate with her telepathically, and is almost disappointed when he speaks.

"Erik isn't at fault, it was my choice to follow him," Charles tells her honestly, apologetically. "I'm sorry if we jeopardized the CIA's mission."

"No…" Moira shakes her head. Suddenly all her anger dissipates, leaving behind guilt and regret pooling at the pit of her stomach. "No Charles, it's my fault…I lost control."

Charles smiles at her with the forgiveness she was unable to find. "It's alright, Moira."

He straightens up slightly, looking to the side. "Well, as Erik said, we managed to find Shaw's right-hand woman. She seems to go by the name Emma Frost."

It is then that Moira notices the presence of the blonde woman whom she had seen with Shaw and his minions. She seemed to have her hands behind her back, possibly in handcuffs though Charles had a firm grip on her arm. She looks at Moira, an amused smile on her face despite the visible red mark on her smooth, slender neck.

"Right." Moira replies seriously, all business again. The agents beside her move forward to grab Emma. "We'll take care of her."

"Thank you Moira." Charles says with a sincere smile. He releases Emma and gives Moira a small nod, before moving away. "Well, if you'll excuse me."

Moira watches as he strides to join the solitary Erik whom she suspects is fuming. She watches Charles place a hand on the tall man's shoulder, not speaking a single word. She wonders if Charles is comforting him telepathically, and feels a pang of jealousy.

"_Interesting. Looks like even a trained CIA agent is prone to such feelings."_

Moira's eyes widen at the silky voice. Her gaze darts to Emma, who merely smiles at her- and she abruptly realizes the voice was in her head.

"_What?"_ She thinks.

Emma's smile widens, her cold eyes staring at Moira's expression. _"Your feelings for that telepath are quite obvious. I'm surprised he hasn't noticed."_

"_He hasn't?"_

"_I assume he hasn't, though I wouldn't know for sure," _Emma raises an eyebrow, a smirk on her pretty face. _"Would you like me to read his mind?"_

"No!" Moira accidentally says out loud, and her colleagues stare at her surprised. She blinks, then shakes her head. "It's nothing. I was just…talking to myself."

They eye her skeptically, but nod. "Alright."

One of them then asks, his gun pointed towards Emma as a measure of precaution. "What should we do with her?"

"Put her in the back of the van," Moira commands, and they nod, moving to do so. When she is sure Emma is in the place, unable to get away, she sighs tiredly and proceeds to the driver's seat.

"_Don't worry, you aren't the only one with such feelings," _Emma's voice reassures her, and Moira imagines there is a mocking edge to her smile. _"His feelings aren't hidden that well either."_

Moira's eyes widen, and she hates the urgency in her question. _"Whose?"_

She can feel Emma smile slyly, can see her eyes glinting like sharp, dangerous diamonds. She waits for an answer, but the telepath is silent.

Moira growls in frustration. Before she starts up the truck, she remembers seeing Erik and Charles together. Biting her bottom lip, she descends from the driver's seat, going around the truck to call out.

"Charles, we have to leave!"

Charles turns and shouts back to her, "Alright." He says something to Erik, then makes his way towards the back of the truck, Erik on his heels.

Moira looks at them. The two men are walking side by side, conversing lightly with each other. Charles is looking less tired and smiling a little more widely and the anger has left Erik's expression, the murderous wrath absent in his gray-green eyes. He is not smiling, but his lips have moved to give a content expression, and Moira is suddenly reminded of his reaction on the ship that night.

"_His feelings aren't hidden that well either."_

Moira closes her eyes, wiping Emma's words from her mind. She inhales, opens her eyes and gets back to her place on the driver's seat.

She doesn't want to think of what Emma's words mean. It was entirely possible the telepath was only trying to disturb her thoughts and make her feel confused about something she shouldn't. Telepathy was a powerful mutation and other less kind mutants than Charles would no doubt take advantage of the power.

Though, she couldn't help a moment of luxury to pretend that Emma had been talking about Charles's hidden feelings for her. But it was only a moment, for Moira knew, had seen that when Charles looked at her, though it was with affection, it was not the way in which Moira always found herself looking at him.

Moira gives an irritable sigh and thrusts the key roughly into the ignition.

Vaguely, she wishes she was a mutant like them.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thank you so much to everyone; those who put this story on alert, those who read and those who reviewed. I have also read all your reviews again and again. I really appreciate all the feedback. You people are awesome. :) I do hope this chapter will satisfy :)

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><p>Moira has seen many surprising, even shocking things in her life with the CIA, but nothing could have prepared her for the sight before her.<p>

Their once place of refuge lay in ruins, the kids they had left behind under the CIA's worthy protection standing or sitting solemnly on what remained of their headquarters. The sun was shining brightly down on them, but they paid the heat no mind, their expressions as broken as the debris surrounding them.

"My god," Moira breathes. Beside her, Charles does a sharp intake of breath but for once she does not care as much, instead rushing forward to their charges. Dimly, she registers Raven leaving to embrace Charles tightly.

"They killed Darwin." Alex, sitting hunched over with his gaze lowered, says, his deep voice full of barely contained resentment. Her mind flashes back to the scene of him bashing the now gone Darwin and laughing because his mutation didn't allow him to be hurt.

She doesn't know whether to scoff or blanch at the irony. She had been furious when she had seen them playing around with their powers but looking at the desolate sight before her, she would much prefer the immature act than looking at their lost faces filled with hopelessness, seriousness and depression.

Darwin. She remembers the boy whose mutation was to adapt to survive. She remembers thinking him as more mature than the others from the maturity in his dark eyes, and being disappointed in him when he had proven her wrong when she had seen him participating and doing nothing to stop Alex's and the others' juvenile acts…

Moira bites her lip. She lowers her gaze and sends a quiet prayer to Darwin. She says nothing to the silent Alex. There was nothing she could think of to say to someone whom had just lost his best friend.

Erik's voice interrupts her thoughts as he steps forward and speaks firmly to the kids. They look at him blankly but with a hint of respect in their features, looking up to him for guidance as if he were a fatherly figure.

Moira could see from their tense postures that despite everything that had happened, everything they had gone through, suffered through and lost, (she is suddenly aware of the missing presence of Angel) it was far from the end for them. Shaw ambushing and taking away their two comrades, their friends, from them had ignited an anger and determination, a furious resolution in them that had not been there before.

"Erik," Charles is coming forward, placing a hand on Erik's arm, his voice controlled. "A moment, please."

Erik turns to him and Charles leads him away. Moira watches with a frown, her arms crossed, as they converse in quiet but not inaudible tones, standing so close their arms touched.

"They're just kids." Charles points out shortly.

"No. They _were _kids." Erik states in a matter of fact tone. Ever the realist, he counters in a harsh whisper. "Shaw has his army - we need ours."

Moira sees Charles turning his head to the side away from Erik, the slightly tense hold of his shoulders suggesting his opinion towards Erik's stand. He directs his gaze to the ground before turning around.

Had they ever known that Shaw had been targeting their new recruits, Moira knew they never would have left the kids alone. She feels a sharp spike of anger at Shaw for his cowardly ambush – for threatening mere kids and taking away two of their companions from them. She has to forcefully remind herself that shooting Shaw when she next sees him would not be a good idea, judging from what had happened to her colleagues.

The CIA agent swallows back her frustration and listens as Charles speaks, "We'll have to train;" he pauses, and sweeps his intent gaze around, resting on Sean, Alex, Hank, Raven. "All of us."

"But we can't stay here," Hank, who is sitting on the surviving bench a distance away from Sean and Alex, speaks up logically, looking at Charles and Erik grimly. Everyone turns their attention to him and he purses his lips, furrows his eyebrows as he avoids Charles's gaze for a moment.

"We-We've got nowhere to go." Hank's gaze is almost dull, his expression lost as he looks at Charles.

Moira watches as Charles merely smiles in return, a glint in his blue eyes. His next words are simple and reassuring but serious.

"Yes we do."

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><p>Moira has to resist the urge to gape at the <em>castle<em> in front of her eyes.

For that was what was in front of them; a mansion which looked more like a king's castle more than anything else. They were only looking at it from the outside but she could already see the various spikes, spires and pillars which adorned the tall, majestic, glorious looking castle.

"This is yours." The dazed sentence comes from Sean who has his arms crossed and is staring in open awe.

"No," Charles replies and Moira turns her gaze to him. She cannot see his expression from where she stands but she is sure he is smiling. "It's ours."

Alex is looking back and forth between Charles's castle and Sean's direction, as if he cannot believe the sight before him. Moira finds herself thinking the same.

"How did you _survive _in there?"

Sean and Hank are still exchanging incredulous glances when Raven speaks cheerfully, linking her arm through Charles's. "He had me of course."

Moira looks at Raven with the slightest bit of jealousy in her eyes as she continues, "Come on," she and Charles exchange a smile and she lets go of him, tapping his shoulder. "Time for the tour."

The group of mutants and one human move forward, lead by Charles and Raven. Raven is striding confidently forward across the huge expanse of grass while most of them are taking slow, almost cautious steps on the rich green meadow. Her steps are light, as if she is glad to be back at her home.

Charles follows at a more leisurely pace. Moira notices that Erik is beside him as usual.

"So, you're rich."

"No," Charles replies humbly, meeting his friend's eyes. He smiles. "But my parents were."

Erik looks at him, but doesn't question his use of the past tense, merely making a non-committed noise.

Charles smiles and moves closer to him, speaking casually, "Aren't you going to ask?"

Erik doesn't falter in his step. "You've never invaded my privacy," he says honestly, and Moira is standing at an angle where she can see emotion in his gray-green eyes.

He looks at Charles, who looks back at him, a grateful smile on his lips. "Thank you, Erik."

Erik's lips curve into what can be interpreted as a smile and Charles continues, albeit guiltily. "And, I'm sorry if being here makes you feel uncomfortable."

Erik blinks and looks away, but he didn't look displeased. "It's fine, Charles."

Charles's smile widens and Moira finds herself looking away, feeling like an intruder of some sort just listening to their conversation.

"Aw man, this is so cool!" Sean had finally seemed to have gotten his loud voice back as he roams his excited gaze across the lavished area. "Are we really staying here?_!_"

Charles removes his gaze from Erik, turning it to Sean with a smile. "Why yes we are Sean. This shall be our refuge and training venue for quite a while."

Sean whoops, throwing his arms up into the air "Awesome!"

"Are you sure we can train here?" Alex asks, half in awe and half in doubt. "I- We wouldn't want to ruin the place."

"Don't worry Alex," Charles says, an amused smile on his face as he meets Alex's eyes. "I already know of a perfect place where you can train…underground."

Alex blinks, unsmiling but his tone relieved sounding. "I see."

"Can I…perform my experiments here as well?" Hank pipes up hesitantly. "I mean- in your…mansion."

"_Our_ mansion, Hank," Charles reminds him cheerfully. He turns his gaze to the aforementioned place. "Of course, there are quite a number of places which you can use for laboratories.""

"Laboratories; in the plural form," Hank follows Charles's gaze, a dazed look in his eyes and smiling brightly, excitedly in a way Moira has never seen him smile before. "I can't wait."

She watches as Charles smiles and turns his attention back to Erik. Moira increases her pace.

"Cute, isn't it?"

Moira blinks. She turns to Raven who is smiling at her. "What?"

"The way they look at each other."

"Who?"

It is Raven's turn to blink. "You don't know?"

"Um, no?" Moira asks uncertainly, unsure what Raven is talking about in the first place. There is a lingering feeling at the back of her mind but she brushes it away.

"Oh. Oh well, maybe I'm just imagining it then," Raven seems to push the issue aside. "Well, just ignore what I said."

"Alright…"

Raven smiles at her, and leans towards her conspiratorially. "Hey, don't mind me asking, but- do you _like_ Charles?"

Moira stares. "What?"

Raven's smile turns into a grin. "Well – are you romantically interested in my brother?"

Moira has never had anyone ask her such a personal question so directly before. She stares at Raven, who winks. "It's alright if you don't want to tell me but it is quite obvious, you know."

"I mean, Charles is handsome _and_ rich though he often flirts with girls – " she grimaces.

"I won't marry for money." Moira says automatically.

Raven blinks at that, raising an eyebrow. "Nobody said anything about marriage."

"What? I-I mean, you're right," Moira sighs. She raises her hand, brushing a stray lock of hair to the side. "I'm sorry, I'm just…stressed."

"I can understand that," Raven says in a more quiet tone. "Angel's gone after all. Darwin too."

Moira feels a terrible pinch of guilt for being unable to take a simple joke. "I'm sorry." She says sincerely.

Raven shakes her head, her frown turning into a smile. "It's alright."

"It's just…I've always been…alone with Charles. I've never really made any other friends," Raven speaks suddenly, her emerald eyes glistening with nostalgia and sadness as she gazes at the sky. She turns to Moira. "Even though you're older than me, if we were to be friends, you'd probably be my first…girl-friend."

"I think…I would like that, Raven," Moira finds herself saying after a moment of silence, and the words are propelled from more than just guilt. She thinks of Angel who was laughing with Raven, and herself surrounded by men from the CIA. She smiles genuinely at the blonde. "I would like you to be my friend."

"Really?" Raven asks, surprised. Moira nods and she beams, moving to link arms with Moira like she had done with Charles. "Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't be saying it if I weren't sure," Moira smiles fondly at her, though she was a little surprised at Raven's skepticism of her offered friendship. Raven was beautiful with her wavy blonde hair and sparkling emerald eyes – and though that was not the reason why Moira wanted to be her friend, she was sure her beauty would have given her more than enough confidence to seek out any sort of relationship.

Raven hesitates then, remembering something. "I mean, you don't mind…my blue form?"

"I haven't seen it before," Moira admits. She pauses, meeting Raven's eyes. "Would you mind…showing it to me?"

"I wouldn't…though you may mind."

"I won't." Moira promises, her arm still interlinked with Raven's.

Raven smiles hesitantly. At Moira's encouraging gaze, she pulls her new friend to the side.

"Alright then…watch." When they are a distance away from the others, hidden by one of the castle's many walls, Raven closes her eyes, takes a deep breath and allows herself to morph.

Moira watches in amazement as Raven's transformation takes over her body. Her blonde hair turns an orange-red, shortening drastically as dark blue covers the length of her entire body. Her eyes opened to reveal deep, narrow yellow-golden irises.

"So…what do you think?" Raven smiles grimly. "The real me is hideous, right?"

Moira shakes her head. She is far from disgusted, just surprised and perhaps a little shocked at the vast transformation. She struggles to find the right word to describe her feelings. "No, Raven- you're not. I think you're…" she pauses, holding on tightly to Raven's arm. "…Special."

"Special..?" Raven says the word as if it is the first time it has left her lips.

"Yeah…special," Moira says, more confidently now. "I've never seen anything like you before. Even for a mutant, I'm sure you're special."

She allows herself a mischievous smirk. "Well, I could also use the word exquisite, but I'm not Charles."

Raven blinks, and giggles in a way which makes Moira smile and feel at ease. "No you're not."

Raven smiles, and morphs again, her voice coming out much deeper. "I am."

Moira's eyes widen at Raven's new appearance. She knows it is Raven's special transformation ability and not really Charles yet Raven has _become_ him in such a way that she is instinctively drawn to unlink their arms.

But the Charles in front of her holds on, shaking his head and smiling solely at her. Her heart skips a beat as he leans forward, close to her, his lips brushing against her right cheek as he whispers into her ear, "Thank you, Moira."

Moira feels her face heat up. She is speechless as Charles withdraws and in a second of transformation, Raven is standing in front of her again, this time in her blonde form.

She winks. "Just a little reward for accepting the real me."

"Oh…" Moira says dazedly. She shakes herself out of her stupor, and directs a more genuine smile at Raven, trying to forget about the illusion. "Thank you…Raven."

Raven returns her smile, adopting a more serious demeanor. "No really Moira, thank you." Her eyes soften. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for someone to say that…to not only accept my current form but my true form as well."

"It's my pleasure, Raven." Moira smiles generously. She pauses. "Doesn't Charles…?"

Raven's smile falters. "Charles isn't particularly disturbed by it but he doesn't accept it fully either…" she trails off.

Seeing Moira's sympathetic look, Raven moves to change the topic with a sly smile. "So, did you like my little surprise?"

Moira blinks, before smiling at Raven. "Yeah, I did." She says softly. She had liked it, more than she probably should have. Of course, it had still been Raven on the inside but on the outside it had been Charles, appearance, voice, body language and all. It had been just a fleeting moment, an illusion, a short dream come true; but that was what her desired relationship with Charles would always be- merely a dream she hoped she would be able to forget about someday.

It was inevitable, feeling melancholic while having such thoughts so Moira switched to a different focus, "Raven, even though we're friends we may not be able to hang out that much. I mean, you'll be staying at yours and Charles's mansion but my real job is still at the CIA…"

Raven tilts her head slightly to the side, "Is that what you're worried about?" She asks, slight amusement in her voice.

Moira nods hesitantly and Raven laughs, but gives a true, genuine smile, her deep green eyes giving off a relaxing warm glow. Moira finds herself smiling along with her as she speaks.

"Don't worry Moira. I'm happy enough to finally have someone whom I can trust as my friend."


	4. Chapter 4

_Author's Note: Thanks to all who read and everyone who reviewed :) I was really encouraged by your feedback despite my busy life and all._

_Anyway here's the next chapter. As you can see it's much longer than the others...originally it was supposed to be two chapters, but I felt it was better as one long one. Er I apologize...I'll make sure the next chap will be shorter and less tedious to read._ _Seems like I'm getting into the habit of writing long again, but I hope everyone enjoys this chapter all the same :)_

_It seems like I've forgotten something important so here it is. Sorry for not stating the following in the previous chapters.  
><em>

_**Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men First Class and its characters.**  
><em>

* * *

><p>Moira sometimes wonders what Charles had done to make Erik stay.<p>

It had been clear that even after being rescued from drowning by Charles, Erik apparently saw no real reason to not leave. She could see that the man was a survivor, who would refuse to be encumbered in his goal by the workings of the CIA or even working with other mutants; something which she suspects a loner like him has never done before.

Thus it had come as a surprise to her when she returned from a meeting with the CIA to find out Erik had stayed. Her colleague at the facility had informed her himself that 'that telepath' had dismissed his offer, his assistance and embarrassed him saying they would prefer their own mutant methods and it was really daring and quite overboard for that other man, mutant to barge in on their private meeting like that and distract the telepath-

Moira had eventually tuned the man out, the only useful information she had gotten was what Charles had said, courtesy of the man's ranting.

"_Erik… you decided to stay."_

Moira does not have to wonder about the tone in which Charles had spoken; the words her colleague claimed rather sarcastically that Charles had said at the sight of Erik already crafted an image of Charles smiling in relief and gladness at Erik, in her mind.

Moira feels a familiar feeling of jealousy at the thought of Charles smiling at Erik.

She knows Charles smiles at everyone, he smiles at Raven, at Hank, Alex, Sean. He had even smiled at her bossy CIA superiors. And he had smiled at her.

And of course, he smiled at Erik. But there was something in the way he smiled at Erik which differed in the way he smiled at everyone else, at her. He smiled at her genuinely, but when he smiled at Erik, it was not only a genuine smile but a smile of affection.

Moira frowned. It was hard to explain, but having treasured every time Charles had smiled at her, which wasn't much with her not being able to see him as much as she would have liked, she couldn't help but compare Charles's smiles to her and Erik, whom he now spent all, if not most of his time with.

She had seen Charles smile at Erik. She had seen his blue eyes soften with something she had not been able to identify, his facial expression relax as if all the burden he held as the leader, as a telepath, as a professor; was lifted from his shoulders in that one moment…

Moira blinks. She scoffs inwardly.

She can hardly believe herself; she is thinking, of all things, of someone's smile. Charles's smile, actually, but a smile nonetheless. She is actually contemplating the reasons for his smile and thinking about why he smiles at his best friend that way, and not at her?

It is as if she is in a cliché version of high school – the geek with a hidden crush on the most popular and friendly boy always seen with his sullen best friend. The image is so pretentious Moira wants to laugh.

How ironic that that was far from what real life is.

Moira sighs. Vaguely, she thinks of Charles's personality being the same even if he were younger and in high school. Though, he had said Charles had been sarcastic to him, which she couldn't imagine…unless it had been caused by Erik. She shakes her head, forcefully brushing the thought away.

"Agent McTaggert?"

Moira almost gives a start. She blinks, returning to reality. "Yes, Sir?"

Her superior is staring at her incredulously. "Did you just shake your head?"

"_What, has he made shaking one's head illegal in the CIA while I was thinking?"_ Moira thinks sarcastically. Out loud, she says, "I think so, Sir."

Her superior is still staring at her. "Does this mean you disagree with my opinion?"

"Pardon me, Sir?"

"I was saying it would be something the moronic Russians would do; placing those nuclear missiles in Cuba," her superior says, narrowing his eyes at his only female employee. He raises mocking eyebrows, speaking in an annoyingly superior tone. "And you shaking your head means you beg to differ, yes?"

"Yes- I mean, no Sir." Moira shakes her head again. She quickly improvises, "I was shaking my head to get an insect off my hair." It was better than admitting she had been distracted by her thoughts.

"What? Are you implying that the CIA's meeting room is so unhygienic that it attracts _insects?_" The old man demands.

"Every place has a possibility of having insects." Moira states logically.

One of the other men around her scoff. "Ha! Just like a woman to be so concerned about mere insects!"

"Well, the insect was in her _precious_ hair!" The man beside him mocks with an annoying grin.

Most of the men burst into laughter at that. Moira grits her teeth as her superior grins, humored. "Of course, I understand now; Agent McTaggert." He waves her off. "Don't worry. You'll be able to wash your hair, with your favorite shampoo of course, after this meeting."

"Now, as I was saying…"

Moira resists the urge to leave her seat and sock the old man in the face with her fist. Instead, she inhales, quelling her violent urges. She wouldn't let them get her down.

She resists the urge to close her eyes, in the case they would accuse her of sleeping during a CIA meeting. Instead, she tries to think of the positive things in her life.

A pretty girl with blonde hair and green eyes appears in her mind's eye and she smiles. She thinks not of Charles's sister but of Raven, of her new friend's unique blue form, her happy smile, her reassuring words.

"_Don't worry Moira. I'm happy enough to finally have someone whom I can trust as my friend."_

Moira smiles, feeling the anger ebb away. She would remember to tell Raven the same.

* * *

><p>"Moira!"<p>

"Raven." She says, smiling. She receives the hug the blond bestows on her, surprised but happy.

Knowing Raven was a person of affection, to the people whom she trusted and liked, at least, Moira allows her new friend to hold her in her enthusiastic embrace. When Raven withdraws, she is beaming.

"I missed you," she admits. "It was boring around here without you, with the others busy training and all."

Moira smiles. "I assume Charles is training them?" She asks casually.

Raven nods. "Yeah, it's quite amusing though." She shares with a wry grin.

Moira returns her grin as they walk side by side. "Really? Might I want to know the reason why? She teases lightly. "The only training session I've witnessed so far consisted of Sean screaming and breaking glass…which wasn't so amusing."

Raven gives a laugh at Moira's slight grimace, her grin widening. "Well fortunately for us, though not for Sean – we managed to witness a particularly funny episode instead."

"Enlighten me." Moira smiles, knowing somehow it had ended up with Sean being hurt.

"You know how Charles is insistent on Sean being able to fly with the right frequency of soundwaves?" Raven asks and Moira nods. She continues, "Well, he and Hank decided to conduct an experiment on that; Hank built Sean these funny yellow and black striped wings and he and Charles pushed him-

"-out of the window." Moira finishes with Raven. She smirks at Raven's surprised look. "Right?"

Raven blinks, then shakes her head smiling, "Never knew we had another telepath in this place," she teases jokingly.

"I could guess," Moira says good naturedly. "And poor Sean didn't get the chance to actually scream, did he?"

"No he didn't," Raven confirmed, seemingly unable to stop smiling. She chuckles at the memory. "It was so hilarious – I mean, he just, _dropped _into the bushes with this…undignified sound- _squawk_ even despite the wings; everyone was _laughing;_ Charles, Hank, me of course, Alex, Erik and afterwards even Sean himself!"

"It would be quite anticlimactic, wouldn't it?" Moira says as she smiles amusedly, imagining the amusing but heartwarming situation with everyone's laughter, feeling a tinge of gladness that Alex had remembered how to laugh. Then she blinks. "Wait, Erik was laughing?"

"I was surprised too," Raven admits. She smiles. "It was quite…refreshing I suppose, though."

"It was kind of nice, seeing him so carefree for once."

"Yeah, I guess it would be."

She had said the last sentence a little quietly and appreciated her friend changing the topic, "Anyway, speaking of Sean, I think he's going to try flying again, with the help of Charles and Hank of course."

"Wanna go catch the view?"

Moira is unable to resist the wide grin. "I'd love to."

Raven smiles brightly. "Great! Though, it'd have to wait a while since Charles is helping Alex now," she says, and Moira wonders if she had gone to visit her brother. "In the meantime, I think I'm going to pull some weights, build up my strength some, since I can't actually do much to train."

Moira doesn't have to ask why – she knows of Raven's ability. "I could join you," she finds herself offering. "As a CIA agent, I've had to stay more than fit."

Raven looks at her. She blinks, then smiles at Moira.

"I think I would like that."

* * *

><p>They are in what can be described as the gym room with Raven lying on her back on what looks like an enlarged long, hard piano stool with a yellow seat, while lifting a particularly heavy weight. Moira is sitting on a soft, gold rimmed chair beside the bed, starting her own regime. A small but heavy dumbbell is in her hand as she stretches her arm out, making sure it is straight before lifting the dumbbell up and down, flexing her arm and stretching her stiff muscles.<p>

When the muscles in her left arm feel stretched enough, Moira smiles. She gets up from the chair, crosses the room. Her left arm still working on the dumbbell, she bends down to lift a slightly heavier one using her right hand. She juggles between lifting the two dumbbells for a moment before proceeding to leisurely stroll around the room, taking turns to flex her strong arms with the weights.

The silence is nice and quiet, pleasant as she and Raven work out. Though Moira finds she doesn't mind when Raven speaks, "You're pretty strong, aren't you?"

Moira turns her gaze to Raven, who has her blonde hair in a ponytail. She is wearing a blue singlet-shirt and light blue faded jeans, and a smile on her slightly sweaty face.

Moira looks at the heavy barbell which Raven has lifted, which, even without personal knowledge, she would have known was one of the types which aspiring weight lifters trained with. "Funny how no one has noticed how strong _you_ are, Raven."

"Same to you, Moira." Raven replies, and they share an amused, almost conspiratory grin.

They then return to their own workouts. Moira smiles at the peace and quiet and Raven's presence in the room. She was the only woman in the CIA and thus had to train only with men. It was nice to have, as Raven put it, a girlfriend in the same room – though she doubts they're doing what most other girls would do-

Her idle thoughts are interrupted by a strange metallic sound followed by a startled gasp. Knowing the sound did not come from her, Moira turns from where she has positioned herself at the right side of the room, shifting her gaze quickly to Raven, whose eyes are widened in surprise.

An intruder, she thinks in annoyance. She doesn't miss how the metal stand on the floor near Raven has been knocked over and the heavy barbell showcasing a sudden immunity against gravity, floating above Raven, relatively high up in the air.

And she knows who it is.

"When you're using half your concentration to look normal," a voice who has not spoken to her much but she is still able to readily recognize sounds, and Moira narrows her brown eyes at Erik who is casually strolling into the room. "Then you're only half paying attention to whatever else you're doing."

Raven has lifted her upper body off the yellow seat. She stares silently at Erik, who looks impassively bored but somehow serious at the same time.

Erik's eyebrows raise and he continues, his voice slightly husky, "Just pointing out something that could save your life."He shakes his head slightly, his gaze leaving Raven as he directs it to the metal weight above her.

There is that strange sound again and the barbell drops and before Moira can say something to warn Raven, she changes, her arms automatically raising to catch the weight with her blue hands.

Moira exhales, watching Raven stare at Erik with her golden cat eyes.

"You want society to accept you," Erik is saying, his tone holding something which sounded almost like pity, sympathy, even, as he makes eye contact with Raven's yellow eyes. "But you can't even accept yourself."

Raven doesn't say anything. Moira grits her teeth. Erik looks like he is giving Raven a last, to Moira, condescending look and she decides to make her presence known.

"It's easy for you to say," she bites out, moving to the centre of the room to stand protectively in front of her friend. "Your _mutation_ doesn't require you to change yourself in any way, does it?"

Erik looks at her, his eyes gaining a hardened edge. "What would you know?" And Moira is sure he is now giving _her_ a condescending look.

"I know enough," Moira almost hisses. A dark anger is rising up in her. She finds herself thinking not only of Raven, but also of Hank and his abnormally big, deformed looking feet. "I know that some people, unlike you, cannot help having a reaction towards their natural power."

Erik is glowering, glaring at her now, in a way which should have had her feel fear, but did not. "Do you think – are you so naïve to think that I had no problems with my mutation, just because it cannot be seen?"

Moira knows she has hit something. She has somehow said something which hit something in Erik he hadn't wanted to admit. He is glaring at her with an intense, more unusual anger in his eyes, and she feels a morbid, familiar feeling of grim satisfaction at the fact.

"I bet I could easily control metal too if I was a mutant with your power." She says tauntingly.

Erik moves to open his mouth, but Moira is on a roll now. Frustration is consuming her once again, at Erik having mocked her only mutant friend, at the memory of Charles looking at her with disappointment in his eyes because of him-

"And _Charles_," she continues, and does not miss the surprise in Erik's eyes. "You know he is a _powerful _telepath- you know he can _feel_ what you are feeling, and yet _you_ aren't doing anything to stop it."

"What are you saying-"

"You're hurting him," Moira says bluntly, and relishes in the widening of green eyes and the sudden guilt in his expression. She smirks wryly. "Don't you know? You're making him feel all your negative emotions. He has no choice but to take in and bear with all your _anger_, all _your_ hatred, all your thoughts of _revenge_-"

"_Stop."_

The metal weights in the room are starting to vibrate violently, but Moira merely smirks, clutching tightly onto the weights in her hands. Something dark is creeping up in her, something dark that gives her the suddenly appealing urge to see Erik Lensherr angry, to see him lose control over his emotions, to see that hard face, that hard mask crack with the realization of what he has done, and is still doing.

"Admit it. You are hurting Charles Xavier with all your selfish emotions. You are hurting the only person who has ever cared about you and he can do _nothing_ to stop it," she doesn't care that her voice is almost emotionless as she speaks, doesn't care the extent of what she is saying. "The only one who can do something is you, but you _won't."_

"Honestly, I don't see what Charles sees in you-"

"Stop_."_ this time it is Raven who speaks, and her voice is so firm that Moira looks back at her. She is still in her blue form. "That's enough, Moira. Erik, please control yourself."

It is then that Moira notices that the metal weights and metal fixtures have gone from vibrating violently to levitating dangerously, the weights having forcefully left her hands. Erik looks so angry she almost expects him to snarl at Raven's formal plea.

Instead, he gives her a glare full of hatred, whirls around, storms out of the room and mentally slams the door with a resounding bang.

Instantly, there is the harsh clang of metal falling, and Moira barely manages to catch the dumbbells with her hands.

Moira inhales. She moves her gaze to Raven, who is standing and shaking her head. "I don't think I've ever seen him so angry before."

"Are you scared?" The words leave her before she can stop them.

To her relief, Raven does not look at her with annoyance, merely sadness. "No I'm not. Erik…he's a nicer person than you give him credit for."

Moira had never thought anyone, except Charles maybe, would call Erik Lensherr _nice_. She snorts at the image, but softens at the sadness in Raven's eyes.

"What's the matter, Raven?"

Raven sighs. Moira watches as she changes back to her blonde form, seating herself down on the yellow bed.

Moira moves to drop the weights then to sit beside her and Raven turns to her with a melancholic smile. "I think you hurt him, Moira."

She holds back any sarcastic remarks. "How so?"

"You hit his weakest point," Raven says seriously. She sighs again. "As you probably have guessed, my brother is probably his one and only real weakness."

"I may not know much about Erik but I do know he and Charles have a deep bond."

"But…he insulted you," Moira says, meeting Raven's eyes desperately. "He was mocking you, Raven!"

"Actually, I think he was trying to help me," Raven gives a wry smile. "In his own roundabout way. He was trying to get me to accept my…real form."

"So I'm to blame?" Moira says bitterly, hating the sudden guilt assaulting her and loathing how she is beginning to sound like a petulant child.

"Moira…" Raven reaches out to place a hand on her wrist. She smiles. "I really appreciate you standing up for me, but I really don't think you needed to go that far."

Moira sighs tiredly. Perhaps Raven has a point. "Should I apologize then?" She asks, dreading the very thought.

"No, he probably needs time to cool down," Raven says. "Or, he may just choose to try to forget about it…" she trails off hopefully.

"Hopefully." Moira says.

Raven smiles at her, and Moira is glad to see that her smile reaches her eyes. "Well, no use brooding about it."

She rises, stretching and heads towards the door. Moira moves to do the same.

"C'mon. I think it's about time for the show we've been waiting for."

* * *

><p>It is a dangerous act; is Moira's first thought as she and Raven stare up at the small looking figures on the satellite dish. The fall from the window could have at the worst only resulted in a few broken bones but this – Moira feared it could result in death. Sean's death.<p>

"Raven," Moira says to her friend beside her, swallowing. "Raven, isn't this too dangerous? Sean- he could die."

"Well, he'll live. Both Charles _and _Hank are almost one hundred percent sure he has the ability to fly," Raven points out reassuringly. "If he screams loud enough."

"What if he doesn't? What if…What if he's too shocked and terrified in free fall to scream?"

Raven laughs. "Impossible! I don't think Sean's the type to be able to be silent if he's falling through thin air!" She jokes lightly. "I mean, can you imagine?"

Moira tries to imagine a silent Sean. She can't.

"Don't worry Moira," Raven is saying, a more serious tone in her voice, her smile as calm as her brother's. "Charles would never endanger his student's life."

Moira just nods and sighs. Of course, she is still really doubtful of the idea but she has to admit Raven has made more than valid points.

"_Well, they're just taking a risk,"_ Moira thinks to herself. _"It's not so different from the CIA and our missions."_

That was right, time was of importance here. Training was training and important and would no doubt have to involve several risks for the children to progress. Moira didn't know the whole picture about mutants, but she did know that Shaw was trying to start a war- a _nuclear_ war, and he had mutants whom he had displayed the power of by killing all the guards and practically decimating the profession while destroying the entire facility. They didn't have much time.

Having convinced herself of the importance of risk taking, Moira raises her gaze to the top of the satellite dish. She cannot see the figures clearly from the ground but she automatically feels a sense of respect and admiration for them. Just looking up to the very top of the satellite dish made her stomach clench, despite her lack of phobia for heights.

"I think Sean is too scared," Raven says in mild amusement, raising her finger to point. "Look."

Moira looks. She has never needed spectacles and with a bit of squinting she can just make out the figure in front looking back and forth between the plunge and his companions. There are three other figures besides Sean, two who are relatively tall and one who seems to be shorter than the rest.

"Come." Raven says, gesturing and she and Moira take steps forward until they are much nearer the satellite dish and are able to make out the figures more clearly, with their line of sight still in a convenient diagonal.

Two of them, Moira has guesses correctly, are Charles and Hank. They are holding on to the railing while looking at Hank, convincing him of his high chance of survival, she presumes. The last figure behind Sean has his arms crossed and Moira realizes and she thinks she shouldn't be so surprised-

"Hey, isn't that Erik?" Raven voices her thoughts out loud. She is smiling, in relief, Moira can tell. "Looks like he's fine after all."

"_Of course he is."_ Moira wants to say. For how could a man like Erik Lensherr be seriously hurt by mere words, even if they were accusatory and scathing? She thinks of the possibility of one of Eirk's mottos being the old adage, 'Stick and stones may break your bones but words never will'. It would be surprisingly…normal, which Erik was anything but.

She muses for a moment, and retracts only her previous admiration for him. She hated to admit it, but he did deserve her respect.

That is of course, when Erik decides to give Sean a helpful push. Off the top of the satellite dish.

Charles shouts something so loud and sharply that Moira can hear the echoes of his voice. It is probably Erik's name, she thinks, dryly, as she watches Sean flail wildly in free fall before he gains enough sense in approaching death to spread his make shift wings and _scream._

"_That kid sure can scream."_ Moira thinks with a slight grimace and resists the urge to cup her hands over her ears, half regretting moving from their previous position to get a better view. She looks to Raven, who is just grinning in amusement, and smiles.

"Sean is so going to be terrified of Erik after this," Raven jokes. "More than he probably already is."

"Well, at least he's flying now," Moira points out, joining in the joke. "Looks like that push helped him quite a bit."

"I think it was probably the shock!" Raven laughs and Moira grins.

Sean is indeed flying, honest to god flying; Moira can hardly believe her eyes. She had never seen anyone _flying_ before of course, maybe except Angel, but Angel hadn't been flying so fast, so sound, in such a thrilling way, sweeping through the air so swiftly that he was merely a yellow and black speck to them.

"Look, he's coming towards us!" Raven says excitedly.

With Sean gliding down towards them, his hair flying out crazily behind him, Moira can see the excitement in his eyes, the happiness in his red features. And she had just seen him flying in the air like a new species of bird – had he already learnt how to control his own flight?

Moira backtracks, wanting to give Sean more space to land in case he crashed into them. Just when she is about to turn and tell Raven to do the same, she hears a short, surprised shout from her companion before a rush of wind gushes by her, so strong her hair is blown loose from her ponytail.

Moira whips around against thr sudden force, eyes wide at the sight of Raven dangling in the air in Sean's hold. "Raven!"

Worry grips hold of her as she begins to panic. She doesn't know why Sean suddenly decided to practically abduct Raven but she knows it is his first time flying and he could be endangering Raven's life.

"Raven!"

Raven doesn't make any move to reply her, doesn't even seem to be looking at her, and Moira hears sounds from the air, likely to be Raven's screams, and fears she is too scared, that maybe she has a secret phobia of heights. The worry in her increases as she watches the two slice through the air and it isn't until Sean comes down again, bringing Raven with him, that her worry gives way to ease.

Raven is smiling, smiling more brightly and widely than she has ever seen her smile before, her golden locks billowing behind her with the wind, seeming to shine with the caught sunlight. Moira's eyes widen in surprise but mostly relief and when Sean deposits Raven onto the ground, Moira stumbles and barely manages to catch her friend in her arms.

"Raven!"

Raven is laughing into her shoulder, her arms around Moira's neck and Moira can't help but smile at the genuinely happy sound. She spends a moment standing and waiting for Raven to catch her breath, feeling glad her friend was safely on the ground again.

"That was so…_awesome_!" Raven finally manages to wheeze out.

"Well, it wasn't awesome for me." Moira says, but she is smiling with Raven.

Raven gives a not so apologetic grin. "Sorry." She chuckles, detaching herself from Moira and turning around. "Sean!"

Moira turns with Raven, watching Sean walk towards them from a little distance away. His grin is as wide as Raven's, his hair looks like he had just gotten up from bed and his face is even more red than normal. "Looks like I landed a bit too far away."

Raven is still grinning. "I wish transforming into you would give me your power to fly as well." She laments jokingly.

Sean smirks. "Too bad, it's all mine." He shrugs. "Besides, I just learnt how to fly today – and though flying is the coolest thing I've ever experienced, the method to achieve it wasn't _so_ cool."

Moira and Raven laugh as Sean sticks his tongue out, grimacing.

"Seriously, I don't know _what_ I've done to aggravate him – I mean I've never even spoken a word to him!" Sean shudders, looking to the side. "That guy's just plain scary!"

"Scary, you say?"

"Yeah, scary – maybe he's angry with me because he thinks I'm taking away a certain someone's time." Sean rambles on. He sighs, raising his gaze. "I mean it's so obvious he likes- whoa!"

He stumbles back, eyes going wide. Moira and Raven are already looking at the new presence, who is raising a single eyebrow at Sean.

"Mr…Mr Lensherr!" Sean manages to say. He smiles nervously, taking a few steps back. "Since when were you-"

He gets caught off halfway by choking on thin air. Moira watches Sean coughing, a hand over his mouth and going redder than ever and as she sees Erik's other eyebrow raise, she briefly, absurdly wonders whether Erik had somehow manipulated what little metal which existed in the air to cause the little scene.

"Erik, you shouldn't sneak up on the children like that." A familiar voice reprimands lightly, and Moira feels the brush of soft, possibly expensive cloth as the owner politely says, much too close to her. "Excuse me."

She watches as Charles, having climbed down from the top of the satellite dish onto solid ground, advances quickly towards the still coughing Sean, who almost seems like he's choking, his face a worrying shade of red. He puts an arm around the red-faced boy, patting his back and saying comforting words. "It's alright, Sean…calm down. Calm your mind."

Moira feels the urge to go and help Charles somehow but she stays put, knowing Charles is more than capable. She watches Sean give one last cough before letting himself fall onto the grass, hanging his head with a relieved sigh.

Charles immediately begins to tend to him, crouching next to Sean. "Are you alright, Sean? Are you hurt?"

Sean takes in a deep breath, then turns to Charles. "I'm fine…just…breathless."

Charles smiles. "That is indeed understandable." Sean smiles back and he gets up.

"Well, looks like the experiment was quite a success, wasn't it Hank?"

"It seems it was," Hank replies, coming up from behind Moira. She watches him walk to stand on the left side of Sean, looking contemplative. "It looks like he still has to learn how to regulate his breathing after flying though. I haven't been flying before but I have no doubt it's quite a physically strenuous activity."

Charles grins lightly. "That can be arranged. But overall I'd say we've accomplished much."

"Yeah, we have." Hank nods in agreement, with the satisfied smile of a scientist whose risky experiment had paid off.

Charles smiles. He then turns to Erik, who is standing a distance away from Raven. "Thank you, Erik."

Moira is not sure if she imagines Erik's blink. "Thanking me, Charles? When you were shouting my name and looking like you wanted to push me off the platform yourself?"

Charles blinks, looking horrified for a moment. "Erik, I would never-"

"I'm kidding," Erik says, with that familiar quirk of his lips. "But perhaps you should have- I might have been able to magnetize myself to the Earth's magnetic field."

Hank blinks at his words, the contemplative look returning to his face. "Well that may be possible…"

Moira blinks as her attention is diverted by Sean standing up and making his way casually over to them, seeming to have recovered from his coughing fit. He plants himself beside Raven.

"Sean?" Raven says questioningly.

Sean shrugs, a slight smirk on his lips. "Just wanna watch the show from a clearer view."

"No." Charles is shaking his head firmly, his eyebrows furrowed, but Moira can see concern in his blue eyes. "Taking such a risk without having ever experimenting – that would have been close to suicide, Erik."

"Close to," Erik points out dryly. He moves his gaze to Sean, who nearly flinches. "And wasn't his first attempt to fly a risk?"

"It was a closely calculated risk." Charles says, his voice tight.

"A risk is still a risk," Erik insists, his tone bland. "Sometimes risks have to be taken if there is to be any progress."

Moira starts at Erik's words, never having thought they would share anything in common, even if it was just a point of view.

"Are they arguing?" Sean whispers to Raven.

"I think so." She murmurs back. She frowns. "I'm not sure how it started though."

"You're powerful enough, Erik." Charles finally settles on saying, his blue eyes meeting Erik's emotionless green ones seriously. "You have no need to take the risk of learning how to fly yet."

"I can be more powerful Charles," Erik simply says, but there is a certain intensity in his voice reflected in his grey-green eyes. "I can become stronger, more skilled under pressure. The ability to fly is a highly advantageous skill and you are aware of that."

"What is this really about, Erik?" Charles says quietly, his eyes soft but sad as he stares at the stoic man. He advances towards his friend. "Is this about Shaw?"

Erik is silent as he stares at Charles for a long moment that Moira is surprised when he speaks. "No. It is not about Shaw."

He meets Charles's confused blue eyes one final time before turning and striding swiftly away from the small group.

"Erik!" Charles yells, moving forward quickly to catch up the other man. "Erik my friend-"

"Don't." Charles stops in his tracks, frozen to the spot on the grass as Erik stares straight into his hurt blue eyes. "Don't follow me Charles."

"I don't want you by my side anymore."

Charles stares, unable to move as if his own telepathy has frozen him. He watches as Erik turns and walks away from him, and is completely still until Moira and the others are at his side.

"Charles!" She is the first to speak. Slowly, Charles turns to her, and something painful hits her heart in her chest.

The man she loves is not crying, but there are what Moira knows are tears in his blue eyes. He looks at her wide eyes, swallows and turns away before she can say anything, and says in an unusually soft voice, "I'm sorry."

Moira stares. She remembers Charles looking like he had just had his heart broken, and is hit by the temptation to wrap her arms around him, to whisper comfortingly that it is alright and he shouldn't be the one apologizing because it is all Erik's fault-

"Charles." Is what she says instead, because she knows she doesn't have the right. "Charles…"

"Professor," Hank asks carefully, resting a hand on Charles's left shoulder. "Are you alright?

Charles just nods. Hank frowns, but moves aside to give way to Raven, who wraps her arm around him, murmuring. "Charles…it's alright."

"It isn't." Charles whispers so softly Moira barely manages to catch him. "Raven, I must have done something-"

"You didn't." Moira says, eyes full of guilt at the realization, but no one seems to hear her.

"You didn't do anything wrong Charles," Raven says comfortingly. She releases Charles, but steps in front of him to pull her brother into a comforting hug. "It's alright. He'll come around."

"Cheer up, Professor X," Sean tries. He attempts a smile. "Don't mind Mr Lensherr. He's just being grumpy- well…grumpier than usual."

Charles manages a weak laugh, but says. "I don't think it's that, Sean."

"Well…" Sean seems to muse. "We should count on a distraction then…"

"I know, I'll take you flying," Sean perks up at the thought, smiling. "It's a thrilling experience, isn't it, Raven?"

"Yes it is Sean, but I don't think my brother is in the mood to try flying right now." Raven says apologetically.

"Raven's right." Charles says quietly. "But thank you for the offer, Sean."

"Alright then…" Sean says, disappointed, but there is worry in his bright eyes.

There is a short silence before Charles says, "Raven, please release me."

Raven hesitates but complies. She lets her brother go and he pulls himself away from her, standing straight up.

Charles moves to position himself in front of Moira and his students. He smiles. "I apologize, but I have to take my leave." Moira notices his voice is steadier but she feels guilt strangling her heart as she can still see the tears in his blue eyes. "I have to…attend to Alex."

"I'll come with you." Sean immediately says, but Charles shakes his head.

"It's alright Sean, Alex can be quite destructive," Charles says with a wry smile. Moira watches him swallow almost imperceptibly, and then turn his face away from their vision. "I will take my leave now. Congratulations on learning how to fly, Sean."

Sean starts. Moira notices that it seems like he too has forgotten their original purpose for being in the open area.

"You could always find someone better, Professor." Hank says suddenly and everyone turns to him, surprised. He blinks, then flushes slightly. "I mean…"

"Thank you Hank," Charles says without turning around after a moment of silence. He is walking away from them, not looking back. His voice softens. "But Erik is my only equal."

Moira and the others switch their gaze to stare at him. Hank blinks and they turn their attention on him, looking at him with disbelief on their faces. "What?"

"Hank man, I didn't know you…" Sean seems to be struggling to find the right words. "Were you _propositioning_ the professor?"

"Mr Lensherr is going to kill you if he finds out, you know."

"What? But I didn't mean-" Hank flusters, waving his hands nervously. "I meant-"

"Really…" Raven crosses her arms, staring accusingly at the confused boy. "It sure looked like you were implying something."

"Yeah. You know, that man pushed me off a freaking satellite dish, and _I_ didn't do anything," Sean grimaces at the memory. He looks at Hank with sympathy in his eyes. "Seriously, I feel sorry for you dude."

"I won't save you from Erik's wrath," Raven says bluntly, and Moira is surprised to see her glaring at Hank. "I never thought you were the type…"

"No no, you've got it all wrong!" Hank is waving his arms furiously, a blush on his face at his friends' implications. "I wasn't _offering _him, I was just suggesting!"

"Suggesting?"

"Yeah!" Hank says. Raven and Sean eye him skeptically and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "I was just suggesting that he should find someone better because, you know…it seemed to be like Mr Lensherr didn't appreciate him enough."

"Not that _I_ wanted to take his place, I mean I admire the professor greatly but I don't like him _that_ way," Hank clarifies with a slight grimace. "And even if I did I wouldn't want to compete with such a scary person."

"Besides," he adds quickly, seeing their raised eyebrows. "I...already have someone I like." He says quietly.

That catches everyone's attention.

"Someone you like?" Moira finally gets a word in.

"Yeah…" Hank admits, his gaze directed to the grass. He soon looks up, but seems like he is regretting revealing what was probably his secret.

"Well, I'll just be leaving now…" he mumbles. Without waiting for a reply, he crosses the grassland.

There is another heavy silence at Hank's departure, before Sean pipes up. "Well…today is quite an eventful day, isn't it?"

"First we see Mr Lensherr and the professor argue, then we see the professor looking like he's about to…" Sean trails off. He clears his throat. "Anyway he rejects my offer to take him flying and before we know it Hank is saying something surprising and the professor is practically declaring Mr Lensherr as his only equal-"

"Then it turns out we misjudged Hank who already has someone he likes. Oh, and I learnt how to fly, though I kind of almost suffocated afterwards." Sean shakes his head, but even his smile doesn't have its usual brightness. "Which was awesome of course; the flying part I mean."

"Man, and here I thought today was going to be my doomsday." Sean says. He stretches his arms, yawning widely. "I'm exhausted. I guess I'm just gonna take a nap before dinner."

Moira watches as he walks away, waving a casual hand over his shoulder. "See you, ladies."

He leaves, leaving Raven and Moira behind in the clearing. There is an almost awkward stillness between them before Moira speaks.

"What was that about…?"

"Exactly what it seemed like," Raven replies, her voice sounding distant. She shakes her head and turns to the incredibly confused Moira. The sad smile Raven gives her doesn't help the guilt gnawing painfully away at her heart.

"Let's go back, Moira."

* * *

><p><em>I'm not quite sure how the mood changed so suddenly. By the way, I was thinking of giving my chapters titles; or is it unecessary? Since this fic seems to be going on the dramatic side.<br>_

_Hope you guys enjoyed the lengthy chapter :)_


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Hello everyone, I'm back with a new chapter :) It's shorter than the previous one of course, but I think it's still pretty long. I had Writer's Block, but managed to be inspired by music :)

Thank you to all who read and all who reviewed. :) I haven't had time to reply to your reviews, so I apologize for that. I hope this chapter makes up for the wait, and that the characters are not too out of character or dramatic.

Oh and one more thing. I assumed everyone knew the pairing is Erik/Charles because of the summary, but I would like to apologize to those who didn't know and don't like the pairing, or wish for Moira to get together with Charles. I like Moira, but I just don't think she suits Charles. Maybe it's because I'm biased towards Erik/Charles but that's my opinion, and it's going to show in this story.

So, I guess what I want to say is that this is an **_Erik/Charles_** story. Which means Erik and Charles have romantic feelings for each other. For people who don't like the pairing, I'm sorry, but it was planned as such from the beginning. I will understand if you choose to stop reading. Everyone has their own tastes after all.

**Disclaimer: I don't own X-men First Class or its characters.**

* * *

><p>Moira knows that she has always had a grudge against Erik Lensherr.<p>

What she hadn't known is how her personal grudge would affect Charles. She hadn't known about Charles's feelings for Erik. She hadn't known how seriously Erik could take insults if the notion that he was hurting Charles was directly shot at him. And she hadn't known how badly it would affect the two men's relationship.

She had only known of her grudge against Erik. She had only known of the anger, the fury and irritation and ugly jealousy enveloping her in its dark embrace. She had not only stood up for Raven because she felt she needed to, because she had been angry at Erik doing what she thought was mocking her friend.

She had also stepped in front of Raven to give Erik a piece of mind. She had crafted her own disguise, used protecting Raven from Erik to let her true, repressed feelings come to the surface; that mixture of dark swirling emotions to hurt Erik for hurting her, and hurt him even more bad than how he had hurt her, unaware of the fact.

"_It's my fault," _Moira thinks regretfully. She has her earpieces in her ears and her eyes closed, listening to one of her favorite songs to try to calm herself down. "It's all my fault."

A tear rolls down her cheek. She remembers Charles's heartbroken expression, the tears in his shining blue eyes, and wonders how he had managed to hold back, how he could have resisted the urge to release his pain and sadness.

Moira knows she is nowhere as strong as Charles. She doesn't bother wiping the tears away as they fall from her brown eyes. She has not cried for years, and it is an unusual but immensely welcoming feeling, and she lets the tears fall until she is choking and sobbing.

Her favorite song has ended and the beautiful violin instrumental to _Bleeding Love _is playing in her ears. The soothing but sad sound resounds loudly in her eardrums and she finds herself sobbing even more, not even having the energy to remove the music from her ears.

"Charles," she chokes out, the image of soft brown hair and blue eyes full of tears materializing in her mind's eye. "Oh Charles…I am so sorry."

Moira knows she has no right to cry. She knows Charles is the one who's supposed to be sad, because of her and she has no right to express her sadness when the one she loves who had been hurt by her is not giving in to his.

And above everything else, Moira knows that she should apologize. She should confess to Charles of what she had said to Erik and apologize to Erik.

But Moira is also aware of the fact that she is human. She is a human, and not a mutant like the other residents of the hosue. And sometimes, humans cannot help but be selfish. Despite everything, her heart still wishes vainly for Charles's love. And though that is something she has always known she will never have, a fact confirmed by the series of events she herself had set in motion, deep inside, she still doesn't want her love to have feelings for someone else, much less the man she has a grudge against.

Yet that is not something for her to decide, so she settles on not wanting Charles to hate her. For she is sure that hatred is something he will feel close to when she tells him what she has done. Hatred or at least extreme dislike.

Such negative emotions would be a natural feeling towards someone whom had hurt the one you loved. Moira has experienced the particular theory firsthand.

It feels good to cry, so incredibly good. But crying is a luxury she doesn't deserve and though she has tried to brush away the fact, Moira knows she cannot keep crying forever.

Moira sniffs. She raises a hand to wipe her tears away, before proceeding to remove the earpieces from her ears. Such a pretty sad song would be detrimental to her current state of mind.

Moira sits up on her bed. She stays there for a while, staring blankly at thin air and trying to clear her mind, only coming back to reality when there is a knock on her door.

"Moira?"

It is Raven – of course it is Raven. It would not be Charles or Hank or even Sean. Moira clears her throat, inhaling and speaking in what she hopes is a steady voice. "Yes?"

The door is not locked, but fortunately, Raven does not come in. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." Moira lies with the ease of her occupation.

"Oh. Well, come down for dinner then," Raven calls back to her. "Everyone's already downstairs."

Dinner. That was right, she was in Charles's mansion. It was one of the few times she was actually using the room Charles had offered to her. She hadn't even gotten much chance to eat meals with the mutants because of her busy job, and she had never had dinner with them before.

"I'm coming." Moira manages to say.

"Do you want me to wait for you?"

"No it's okay." Moira says. She assumes Raven has heard her for there is no reply after that.

Moira sighs. She slides off the bed, making her way to the bathroom to wash her face of any tell tale tracks of tears.

She doesn't want to go down for dinner, she hardly feels like eating anything at the moment. Nor does she want to see the tension between Charles and Erik and thus everyone else and be reminded of her secret, horrible deed.

Moira had always known she was the sole human in the group. She had always known she would be an outcast of some sort. But it was only now that she was feeling the sense of lost, the sudden loneliness in being the only one without a mutation.

Moira shakes her head. She reminds herself she has Raven…but is reminded further of the possibility of Raven blaming her for her brother's sadness, and maybe even Erik's as well. Moira could see she cared for both men greatly, though Charles seemed to be more important to her.

Moira bites her lip. Turning on the tap in the richly decorated bathroom, she splashes water over her face, over her blood shot eyes reflected back at her in the clear mirror.

She had a feeling she would regret leaving her room.

* * *

><p>Raven has told her of their dinnertimes, that the session where they all get together is usually quite noisy and full of chatter, jokes and laughter. Fortunately none of them have resulted in food fights, Moira remembers the blonde joking, as she has a feeling Erik would not have been amused.<p>

Moira doesn't even have the energy to smile at the memory of Raven's grin. She doesn't even dare to release a sigh, instead busying her mouth with food and observing the silence.

"So…" it is Alex's deep voice which breaks the silent atmosphere. He looks around the table. "What happened today?"

Moira feels a sense of new respect for Alex, despite not knowing the boy well. But she does not look up from her food as Sean speaks, "Well, lots of stuff man…" Moira notices it seems like he is forcing his last, personal word, "To start with, I learnt how to fly."

"Really? That's cool." Alex's voice is beginning to hold interest and Moira assumes he is looking at Sean. "In just one day? What'd you do? Get pushed off the satellite dish?" He teases.

Sean grins, "Hey dude, that's exactly what happened!"

Alex's eyes widen slightly in surprise. "Seriously? Who did it? Don't tell me it was Professor X." He drawls, smirking in amusement. "I can't imagine him doing that."

Charles is quietly eating his food. He blinks at the sound of his name. Finishing chewing his food, he says in a fairly casual tone, "It wasn't me, Alex."

"Who was it then? Big Foot?" Alex mocks and Hank's grip tightens on his fork. "He wouldn't have had the balls."

"Alex, language." Charles says, but it doesn't even sound like a reprimand. "And please stop teasing Hank."

"It was me," Erik, who is for once not seated beside Charles, says, and everyone looks to him in surprise. He raises an eyebrow at Alex. "If you're so curious to know."

Alex blinks, then smirks. "You, huh? Well I should have guessed." He says. He stares at Erik for a while, then moves his gaze to Charles, frowning. "Hey what's up with you two? You're not talking to each other. I never thought that was possible."

Everyone except Erik, Alex and Charles freezes. Charles stiffens slightly.

Trust Alex to pose the forbidden question.

Erik just continues eating, seemingly unaffected by the tension filled air. "Professor X and I simply had a disagreement."

"…Professor X? What, are you going to start calling yourself Magneto next?" Alex says, meeting Erik's eyes challengingly. "Since when has _Charles_ become Professor X to you? Is _Professor X _going to address you by Mr Lensherr?"

"Alex." Charles says warningly.

Moira has looked up from her food. Erik's expression remains the same but his eyes are narrowed at Alex. The spoon in her hand is vibrating and she almost drops it in surprise.

Alex doesn't look at Charles. "Are you going to let him do this to you?" He says almost fiercely as he looks at Erik, and Moira realizes he is talking not to Erik, but to Charles. "Are you just going to suffer in silence? You don't deserve that-"

He is cut off when Sean pulls on his wrist, causing Alex to fall sideways. Caught off guard, the blond quickly rights himself before he falls onto Sean's lap.

"What-"

"What's wrong with you man?" Sean hisses, his eyes filled with annoyance. "Can't you see the _tension_ that can't even be cut with that man's mentally controlled knife?"

Alex blinks. He opens his mouth. "What a metaphor."

He gets back to the point before Sean screams at him and shows him exactly why he's called Banshee. "And what do you mean- I was just trying to help;" Alex rolls his eyes. "Do you really want to see Professor X _suffering _like that?" He accuses hotly.

Moira is sitting beside Sean and she cannot resist moving her gaze to Charles. She feels her heart clench at the sadness in his blue eyes.

"Well _damn_, when you put it that way…" Sean trails off, grimacing. He shakes his head furiously. "But you know, you just gotta stay out of some things. Hell, it's grown up stuff. Mum and Dad are having issues."

"You're talking as if we're still in high school," Alex scoffs, "Grow up Sean. We've got to kill that bastard who took Darwin and Angel away. We have no time for Mum and Dad's family issues."

"And yet we should have time for your issues?" Hank, seated beside Alex, mutters into his rice bowl.

Alex whirls on him, narrowing his eyes. "Did you say something, Big Foot?"

"Mum- I mean, the professor has been training you without so much as a complaint for all the _havoc_ you've wrecked," Hank says spitefully. "Show some respect."

"Right now, _concern_ overrides respect," Alex counters wrathfully. "In case you haven't noticed, I am not only concerned about our original purpose but Professor X's well being, which unfortunately, is currently of vital _concern."_

"I have taken measures to try to rectify the situation," Alex raises a challenging eyebrow at Hank, using his own scientific terminology against him. "What have you done?"

Hank openly glares at him. "Might I remind you that your _measures_ did nothing to salvage the situation and instead only worsened it?" He spat. "For clearly, the professor and Mr Lensherr are still not communicating."

Sean groans. "Why has this become a verbal battle?" He grumbles unhappily. "And here I thought Alex and I were having a conversation."

"Boys, I can hear you from _here,_" Raven puts emphasis from her position next to Moira, which is two seats from Alex. "Haven't you ever heard of whispering?"

Moira watches her turn to Charles, who is eerily silent. "Charles, stop them please."

Charles sighs. He turns his tired gaze to Alex and Hank. "Hank, Alex, please stop arguing."

"Even if it's for your sake, Mother?" Alex asks almost mockingly and Hank glares at him.

Charles raises an eyebrow at the title but nods."Even then." He says. He rubs his temples. "And please, stop thinking such loud murderous thoughts, Alex. I think you may be giving me a headache."

Hank scoffs and Alex glares at him while Sean grimaces. Raven just sighs and Moira bites her lip. Erik eats his dinner.

"Fine." Alex concedes grudgingly. He shoots a smug look at Hank, which Moira cannot help but interpret as, _"What was that about respect again, Big Foot?"_

Hank glowers back, as if saying dryly, _"I'm surprised you aren't a completely hopeless case, that you're listening to Professor X."_

Moira sighs out loud. She must be going crazy if she's attempting to read Alex's and Hank's minds. Only Charles could do that, which he wouldn't.

There is a tense silence as everyone and not only Erik is concentrating on finishing their dinner. Erik is of course the first one to finish and he rises from his seat, prompting several gazes in his direction.

"Where are you off to, Magneto?" Alex drawls and Sean kicks him under the table, causing him to hiss and glower.

"Seriously dude, shut up. Don't forget you're holding a _knife_ _near to you."_

Alex just glares, ignoring Sean's words, "This is not the way to make Professor X happy."

"Whatever."

Fortunately, Erik ignores Alex, striding purposefully towards the kitchen with his bowl and cutlery. He soon emerges and Moira's eyebrows furrow as he heads to Raven. "Raven."

Raven doesn't show any surprise, only curiosity as she turns to him. "Yes?"

Moira looks at Charles, who is staring at Erik. She is sure Erik can feel it but is pretending not to notice, "Do you have musical instruments in this place?"

Raven blinks, surprise in her eyes. "Musical instruments? What kind?"

"A violin, to be precise."

"Violin?" Raven's eyes widen. "You know how to play the violin?"

Everyone's attention is now on Raven and Erik, and Moira knows they must be all as surprised as her.

"You can say that." Erik says simply. He raises his eyebrows. "So, do you have one?"

"Uh-Uh yeah, sure," Raven says once she has gotten over her surprise. "I can let you borrow mine, or Charles's-"

"Yours will be fine. Where is it?"

"The music storage room." Erik is still looking at her and Raven gets up, despite her unfinished dinner. "I guess I can lead you there."

Erik nods and he and Raven walk away. Moira and the others are still staring at them with surprise in their eyes.

"I didn't know you knew how to play the violin, Erik."

Immediately a heavy silence falls. Moira looks at Charles, who is staring at Erik who has his back turned. She sees Sean leaning over to whisper something to Alex out of the corner of her eye. She suspects it has something to do with the confrontation.

She finds herself watching with bated breath as Erik turns, and for the first time that evening, meets Charles's eyes.

"Contrary to what you believe, you don't know everything about me, Charles."

Charles recoils, hurt shining clearly in his blue eyes. "Erik…"

But Erik has already turned away, and is speaking stoically while advancing forward. "Let's go, Raven."

Raven hesitates but follows. She glances back, sending Charles an apologetic look which he is not even able to smile at.

Moira feels sadness and guilt wrap around her heart as she sees Charles doing nothing to hide his emotions. He gets up from his seat, unsmiling. "I think I'm finished with dinner. I'll just go put these in the kitchen and wash them."

"Ah, professor!" Hank stands up to help him. He gives Charles a smile. "It's alright, I can do the dishes today."

"And I'll help!" Sean volunteers. Moira can see he is trying to cheer Charles up with a reassuring smile. "Don't worry too much professor; like Raven said, he'll come around."

"Don't know what's stuck up his ass," Alex is on his feet, hissing and glaring angrily and Moira guesses they should be thankful he does not have the ability to shoot red laser beams out of his eyes. "Master of magnetism or not, I'll make him pay. He has no fucking _right_-"

"Language, Alex." Charles says wearily and Alex scowls but shuts up.

"Seriously though, don't let that bas- I mean, man get you down." Alex says in what Moira presumes is his version of a reassuring tone. He pauses and his voice is somehow softer. "We're all here for you."

"For once I agree with him." Hank says somewhat reluctantly. He looks like he wants to say something to Alex but decided not to.

"Yeah, don't try to cope all by yourself!" Sean adds on cheerfully. "I mean, it's always good to have company, you know?"

Charles blinks and smiles a genuine smile, and Moira hates her heart for skipping a beat at the sight of it. "Thank you, children."

Charles is loved – she realizes this as she remains a spectator to the scene in front of her. He is loved by not only Raven, his sister, but even Alex, Hank and Sean; people whom do not know him as well but are still able to express affection for him from their hearts. Even Alex, who seems to be the rebel of their little family, is speaking in genuine care for Charles.

They might not love him like she did, but there was no doubt the boys cared greatly for the professor whom took them in, who used time, patience and trust to train them, believing in them and their abilities with that reassuring smile of his, even when they themselves didn't.

Moira remembers Charles's blue eyes. She remembers all the different versions of his smile ; genial, polite, amused, understanding, wry, glad, reassuring, sad. She remembers sneaking glances at him whenever she thought he wasn't looking, or when he was conversing contentedly with Erik, her heart feeling glad to see what can only be described as happiness in his eyes.

"_Everyone loves Charles_," she thinks somberly as she watches Hank put a comforting hand on Charles's shoulder. _"Everyone loves him; not only me. And even if I may be in love with him, I don't have the right. I don't have the right to make him sad because of my own personal prejudice. I have nowhere the right to hurt the person whom I am in love with and whom many people care greatly for."_

Moira bites her lip, immersing herself in her reflective thoughts so deeply she almost misses the soft voice which calls.

"Moira?"

Moira blinks. She tunes in back to the real world to find Charles staring at her with concern in his eyes. She cannot help but notice the fact that he is not smiling. "Are you alright?"

Her first thought is that he had accidentally overheard her thoughts. But logic settles in and she realizes he couldn't have if he was looking at her with such concern in those blue eyes.

Her second thought is that Charles is too kind. He is dealing with his own emotional grief because of her and yet he finds the time to care about her like he does for everyone else, even though she does not deserve his kindness at all.

Charles is still standing, looking at her, waiting patiently for her to speak. He is flanked by Hank and Alex, the former has his hand on his mentor's shoulder and the latter is raising a curious eyebrow at her. Sean is standing beside Alex, regarding her with curiosity in his eyes as well.

None of them are displaying real concern for her save for Charles, who is still waiting for her. She looks at him surrounded by the boys who are practically his adopted children, and feels guiltily like an intruder on a family reunion.

How ironic that the one she hurt is the only one caring about her well being. A wry smile on her lips, Moira replies, "I'm fine, Charles."

To her surprise he shakes his head slightly. "I'm sorry to say this but you don't look fine at all," he says honestly, that concern still in his blue eyes which sends even more guilt tumbling into her stomach.

"I don't mean to pry, but I can't help but feel negative emotions coming from you," Charles pauses. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I-It's just stress at work," Moira settles on saying, unable to lie fully to Charles. She did feel stressed because of her job sometimes. "It's fine, really. I can cope." She has to cope.

"I'll be going now." Moira says. Quietly, she says while meeting his eyes, "I hope you feel better soon, Charles."

That is all she can say with her guilty conscience. Without waiting for Charles's reply, Moira quickly leaves his presence, grateful at least for the fact that she did not lie to him.

Everyone is doing something for him. Everyone is doing something to make Charles feel better except her.

It must be poetic justice – troubling Charles with her negative emotions when that was exactly what she had scathingly, grudgingly accused Erik of. Moira gives an inward dry bark of laughter.

She must do something as well. It is the only thing she has the right to do.

She meets Raven on the way up the stairs, almost colliding into her.

Moira raises her gaze to meet Raven's eyes. "I'm sorry."

She wonders if Raven knows she is not only apologizing for the almost accident. Her friend smiles at her, saying generously, "It's alright."

"Raven," she finds herself saying before she can change her mind. "Raven, could you lead me to Erik Lensherr's room?"

Raven blinks at her, surprised. But Moira supposes she sees the resolution in her eyes for she nods and turns to ascend the stairs.

"Alright. Follow me."

* * *

><p>"It's over there." Raven says when they are in the hallway near their destination.<p>

"Thank you, Raven." Moira replies. "If you wouldn't mind leaving…?"

She has her gaze locked with Raven's as she says this. There is reluctance in Raven's eyes but her friend nods. "Alright."

Moira is glad she is not openly showing doubt and suspicion towards her like she should. Before Raven leaves, she cannot help but reach out to her and grab her wrist.

Raven turns towards her questioningly. "Moira?"

"You can trust me." Moira says intently, meeting Raven's eyes. She swallows. "I know that it's all my fault, that I'm to blame for Charles- your brother's sadness, but – you can trust me on this."

She isn't really sure of what she is saying, she just feels she has to say something to ease the doubt in Raven's eyes. Her friend has been more than accepting of her blunder and Moira finds herself wanting to do something in return, even if she may not have the right.

To Moira's relief, Raven gives a genuine smile. "I trust you." She says simply.

The doubt is not completely gone from Raven's green eyes but Moira is happy to hear the genuineness and trust placed in Raven's words. She returns Raven's smile. "Thank you Raven."

Raven smiles. Moira releases her wrist and she gives Moira an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "Good luck."

Moira nods and with a last smile, Raven turns to walk away, leaving her standing alone in the hallway.

Moira takes a deep breath. Erik's room is somewhere between the middle and the end of the hallway and as she walks in silence, she finds herself thinking of what she should say.

What should she do? Well, first she would knock on the door. Then she should apologize briefly for disturbing him – it was only common courtesy.

This is not like her, Moira thinks as she finds herself standing in front of the door. This is not like her at all, to rush into something so impulsively without even planning first. She thinks ironically, bitterly, that she is doing like what Erik himself had done when he had charged into the Russian mansion.

There is a string of violin music emanating faintly through the door. From what she can hear from it, is a haunting, cold and mysterious sound – exactly what she would expect a man like Erik Lensherr to produce from a musical instrument.

Yet she cannot deny that the music is beautiful and sounds like it is coming from the player's heart. Moira knocks on the door before she can give in to the temptation to just stay outside and listen to the smooth melody. Moira has never had the chance to learn the violin before, but just from the sound, she admits grudgingly that Erik is surprisingly, a talented and capable musician.

The sound flows on, slow, beautiful and enigmatic and haunting. Moira knocks again, louder, not scared but apprehensive.

The music stops. "Who is it?" A rough voice speaks.

Moira inhales. "It is me." She replies and before she can stop herself, opens the door.

Erik is seated on the bed, Raven's violin positioned expertly between his chin and shoulder. He is staring at her with emotionless eyes, so different from the elegant music she had just heard him craft out into the air.

She closes the door. "_The Devil's Trill," _Moira speaks the name of the song, thinking it suited Erik perfectly as she turns to stare at cold grey-green eyes. Her lips quirk in a wry smile. "I haven't heard that particular adaptation before."

"What do you want?" Erik cuts to the point, his expression unchanging.

If he is surprised to hear her comment on his music, he is not showing it. Moira narrows her eyes, but speaks bluntly, "I came to apologize."

"What makes you think I'll accept your apology?"

Erik has not moved an inch from his position on the bed, his fingers pressing down on the strings of the violin rested on the space between his shoulder and neck, his free hand occupied by the bow.

Moira does not hesitate in moving forward. She tries to keep the frustration building up in her to a minimum. "To tell the truth, I'm not so concerned about that." She speaks honestly, emotionlessly. "I'm much more concerned about Charles."

Erik doesn't reply, but there is a flash of something in his green eyes. Moira moves forward until she is staring down at him.

Maybe this confrontation is not going the way it should, Moira thinks. She reminds herself of her promise to Raven as she voices her thoughts, voices something she has loathed to admit for a long time, and at the moment is still hating the notion.

"He loves you." She says as she meets those cold green eyes which she couldn't understand how Charles had fallen in love with. "He genuinely loves you."

"I care for him greatly," she says next, a part of her still not willing to let Erik Lensherr be aware of her true feelings for Charles. "As do Alex, Sean, Hank and Raven."

"And you may hide it, but you feel the same."

Erik is still silent, but his eyes are speaking volumes. Moira feels the familiar feeling of anger in her at his lack of reply, at the way he is still holding Raven's violin and the sight of his frustratingly elegant form.

"I know you are a man of pride," Moira bites out, struggling to control her anger. "But I'll be blunt with you – right now, at this very moment, Charles Xavier, the man whom rescued you from death is hurting, hurting so badly that I-that no one is able to see him smile anymore."

"And he may be hurting because of me," Moira takes a moment to swallow, to force the tears back. "But he is also hurt because of _you_."

"How dare you accuse me of hurting him?" Erik finally speaks, and his green eyes are filled with anger, cold anger, the type of anger which Moira suspects enemies of the Holocaust survivor see before their death. But all it does is increase _her_ own anger, and make her develop an urge to shake some sense into the stubborn man, to strangle the blinding logic of the situation into him.

She dutifully reminds herself that she is wearing metal around her neck. But it doesn't stop her from saying, "Because that is what you are doing. You may be unaware of it but if you would just open your eyes and see-" she is surprising herself with her frustratingly earnest voice. "-see that what you're doing is not helping him, and is instead hurting him even more."

That is enough, she thinks as Erik's cold eyes narrow even further. Erik has not gotten up from the bed, but she is suddenly aware of the metal in the room shaking, rumbling with a cold, metallic sound. The dogtags around her neck are vibrating, shaking as if in fear of Erik's wrath as well, and she grits her teeth, gives him one last look and retreats. Metals bullets are no use against a mutant whom is the master of metal, of magnetism. They wouldn't affect _Magneto_.

It is ironic how she is now using the codename Raven had given Erik, the title which she had frowned upon. It takes less than a minute for her to leave Erik's room. She closes the door behind her, and quickly moves to remove the metal from her neck, shoving it into her pocket as a safety precaution. She had no wish to experience firsthand Erik's range of power.

Moira makes to leave the hallway, wondering what she should do. She didn't know what to think of her conversation with Erik. It seemed she had just made him angrier instead of making him accept the fact that he was hurting Charles and stop avoiding him.

The CIA agent sighs, running a hand through her hair. All of a sudden it seemed that the day's events are crashing down onto her, enveloping her in a sense of weariness and exhaustion.

She tries to think of something to calm her down. The first idea which comes into her mind is music. She remembers the cold, haunting melody of Raven's violin and shakes her head.

The violin could be a beautiful instrument, but it was not her cup of tea.

* * *

><p>Moira knows where the piano in the mansion is. However, she did not know it had already been occupied by someone.<p>

If Erik was playing the Devil's song, Charles must be playing the Angel's – Moira thinks as she stares. She knows it is old fashioned, juvenile and even childish to classify such complicated beings like Charles and Erik but it is all her blank mind can think of at the unexpected but not unwelcome sight before her.

Charles is playing the grand piano, impeccably dressed as usual, his fingers sliding slowly but smoothly across the black and white keys, touching each one as gently and deeply as he had touched every one of their hearts. He is playing softly, with a wish to not disturb the other occupants of the mansion, but Moira is sure the sound would only enchant them, showing them another side of this kind, gentle and perfect man, like it has done to her.

She thinks vaguely she wishes Erik could listen to this – listen to the sad, heartbreaking melody Charles is threading out slowly from the heartstrings of his deeply hurt heart, because of him.

Because of her.

Moira watches silently as Charles plays, his fingers gliding smoothly across the keys to emit a clear, enchantingly beautiful sound which moves to resound in the deepest core of her being. A beam of soft moonlight shines through the window, lightly illuminating his perfectly combed brown hair with a gentle glow and giving his blue eyes a melancholic shine.

At the sight, Moira feels herself inevitably falling in love with Charles all over again.

"_An Angel."_ The tiny part of Moira whom still believed in myths and legends thinks dazedly as her entire being is unable to remove her gaze from the beautiful vision. A tear slips unknowingly from one brown eye. _"An Angel whom does not belong to me."_

At the thought, she is shaken out from her reverie. Moira had not noticed she had been holding her breath. Exhaling as softly as she could, she couldn't help but feel like an intruder all over again.

It seemed that Charles had not noticed her yet, so focused in the music he is creating, in spite of his telepathy. Part of her wants to make her presence known, to question Charles about this new talent she has witnessed in person, to maybe even, join her love in playing music and making it beautiful.

But it is a private moment for Charles who is alone with the piano and his music, and Moira respects and loves him enough to give him that, despite her initial wishes.

The CIA agent breathes softly. Against her heart, she turns and treads with the silence expected of one of her occupation, returning to her room alone.

It is only when she is back at her room that she finds herself wondering about the name of the song.


	6. Chapter 6

Hi everyone, I'm back. :) I felt this chapter was short compared to the previous one, but it's near 4000 words so I guess it's ok. I had a little difficulty writing it though, must have been because I have not written for this story for so long...

Anyway, thank you so much for all your lovely reviews! I assure you, I have read all of them quite a few times. I'm so sorry for making you guys wait for quite a long time, I've been busy with life and my other X-Men First Class fic, which is kind of unusual with an uncommon pairing but I still like it all the same, and writing it kind of took up the time I could have spent writing this...so I do apologize.

I would just like to say, I had been losing interest in this fic after not writing it for so long but your comments definitely revived my interest in it :) Thus I really hope you will enjoy this chapter, even though it may be kind of dramatic. I shall try my best to get the next chapter up ASAP. No promises though.

Posting this before rushing for dinner, so sorry if there are any mistakes. Enjoy! Oh and to the people who are curious, I was imagining Charles playing the piano version of _Right here Waiting for You_ by Richard Marx :)

**Disclaimer: I don't own X-men First Class or its characters.**

* * *

><p>Moira does not know whether to be sad or glad.<p>

She is alone with Charles, walking together with him out in the bright sunlight. They had descended into a discussion of what the CIA were doing, what they intended to do next and how they felt about their mutant allies.

Just official business; Moira thinks as she meets Charles's blue eyes. _"It's just business McTaggert. Don't get your hopes up."_

Yet, Moira finds herself inwardly thanking the boys for insisting that they could train themselves and Charles should have a day off for he looked tired. She could see them looking at Charles with concern in their eyes, and feels guilt tug at her heart.

"Moira?"

She is still staring at Charles's blue eyes, and blinks when he speaks. "Yes?"

"You seem distracted," Charles says, but he is not smiling the way he had smiled before the incident. "Is there something on your mind?"

"_It's nothing Charles – I was just distracted by your eyes. They're so pretty and blue."_ Moira wants to say, just to see a reaction from the calm, quiet man. He had started the discussion about the CIA, but he had hardly spoken, just inserting sentences in various places in their conversation. There no longer seemed to be the avid interest Charles showed in every conversation he had.

She quickly conjures up a lie. "Ah, I was just thinking about what Shaw would do next."

"Shaw?"

"Yes, we do know he wants to start a nuclear war by using the USA and USSR, but we aren't exactly sure of how he will do that."

"He'd probably manipulate events when the two countries are on the brink of a nuclear war," Charles says with a wry smile. "He'd enter the impending war at its most critical point."

"We'll just have to wait for President Kennedy's reaction then. He'll probably be giving a speech." Moira says logically. On a dry note, she adds, "Or perhaps Shaw will solve the problem by absorbing all the nuclear energy he can find and turning himself into a nuclear bomb."

Her tone is sarcastic as she says this, and she is glad to see Charles's smile become more amused. "Well, I suppose it is possible, given his mutation."

"Yeah." Moira replies.

Charles smiles at her. He then turns his gaze to the front and they walk in a peaceful silence. Moira smiles. The air is fresh in the late morning and she inhales, relishing in the luxury of Charles's company.

It is not long before Moira finds her gaze straying away from the lush greenery of the mansion and to its owner. He would have been staring stoically ahead if not for the slight curve of his lips, and Moira wonders what is on his mind.

He is not looking at her, and Moira takes the time to look at him. She looks at Charles, taking the rare chance to take in his pretty blue eyes, his young but tired features, his soft, pale lips…

"Charles," she finds herself inadvertently breaking the silence. "Charles, are you alright? You look pale."

Moira sees Charles blink. He turns his gaze to her, giving her a reassuring smile. "I'm perfectly fine, Moira." He says, and Moira can't help but notice the wrinkles when he furrows his eyebrows.

"But your face is red," Moira says worriedly – pale and red, that was never a good sign. "Do you have a fever?"

Without waiting for his reply, she reaches her hand out to Charles's forehead. Moira lets out a gasp at the scalding heat emanating from Charles's skin. "Charles, you're burning up!"

"Ah, must have been the long hours training Alex. He does produce a lot of heat." Charles smiles, and Moira notices his smile has become less pronounced, his voice tired and weak sounding.

"We should get a doctor," Moira says, urgently grabbing Charles's arm. "You really don't look well."

"I'm fine, Moira." Charles insists, and Moira wonders if Erik's stubbornness has rubbed off on him. "I'm just a little tired."

"You are _not_ fine, Charles," Moira speaks, wishing she had a mirror in her pocket so Charles could see why exactly she had said that.

Charles blinks slowly, then nods. "Perhaps you're right." He says, much to Moira's surprise. "I do feel a little dizzy."

Moira watches as Charles brings a hand up to his forehead, his blue eyes hazy. "Come on, let's get back to the mansion," she says, making to lead him away. "The raging heat here won't help your fever."

Charles nods. He takes several steps forward, then stumbles, and Moira thanks her CIA reflexes as she manages to catch Charles. "Charles?"

"Moira," Charles says softly, his voice slightly hoarse. His lips curl in a wry smile. "I do apologize. I suppose I really am not feeling well."

He tries to remove himself from her, but the burning heat of the sun and the exhaustion of the last few days overtakes him and he falls back onto her shoulder, moaning quietly. "Ah, I am so sorry. This is most rude of me."

"This is no time to worry about manners, Charles. You're so light," Moira speaks quickly, trying to calm down the panic and worry rising in her. "Have you been eating at all?_!_"

"I assure you, I did consume at least two meals a day," Charles speaks tiredly. "Though I suppose finishing them is an entirely other matter."

"We should go back, Charles," Moira says urgently, "I can feel your heat through my clothes."

There is a pause, and Moira realizes how wrong that had sounded. She feels heat rising to her cheeks. "I mean-"

"How very forward Moira, I do believe you're making me blush." Charles jokes. His voice is soft and Moira mentally hits herself for the shiver racing down her spine.

"You know what I mean, Charles." For a moment, Moira contemplates the option of just staying here with Charles leaning into her, in the hot sun, but quickly gets rid of the thought.

"Yes, indeed we should." Charles mutters into her shoulder and he finally finds the energy to stand on his feet again.

Moira lets him walk forward. She walks by his side but a little behind him, her worried gaze never leaving his shaky form.

She watches his pale face, his red lips. She watches his unsteady steps towards the mansion. He turns towards her, and she watches him as he whispers, meeting her eyes. "I'm sorry, Moira."

Moira watches as Charles's blue eyes flutter closed and when his overworked body slowly falls, she is there a second before to support his sudden collapse, catching him in her arms.

"Charles_?_!"

There is no reply, and Moira moves her gaze to Charles's face. His skin is pale and his forehead is still burning. His blue eyes are closed, and Moira realizes that he had finally given in to the exhaustion of both his body and mind and passed out.

Well, in a way it was good that Charles had fainted, Moira thinks. It would finally give him time away from the tiredness he felt.

She shifts his body a little, wondering what she should do. Should she call Raven? Well, she could, but first she had to get him out of the sweltering heat and into the cool mansion.

Moira sighs. She hesitates for a moment before bringing her hands to his back and below his knees and lifting Charles into her strong arms, thanking the rigorous workouts members of the CIA had to undergo.

Strangely, Moira's little fantasies about Charles had never included him carrying her like a newly married bride. And now here she was, carrying him in her arms, bridal style. But there is something comforting about having Charles in her arms and not on her back. Moira wonders if maybe it is because she is now holding him, literally this time, close to her heart.

Charles is light, and his lack of weight causes Moira to speed up her pace. He is hardly difficult to carry, and Moira remembers him saying him finishing his two meals a day is an entirely different matter. It was a wonder he had managed to be conscious in the hot sun for so long.

She is soon nearing the mansion, and Moira glances down at Charles. He still has a fever. With his face still extraordinarily pale and his worn out features, he looks uncharacteristically fragile in her arms, and it is hard to believe remembering him before the incident - his youthful features and his bright blue eyes which shone with amusement and happiness when he was with the man he loves. Moira bites her lip harshly at the thought, and her arms bring Charles closer to her pounding heart.

Her worry for Charles spurs her forward, and it only takes a few minutes for Moira to find herself at the entrance of the mansion. She is contemplating on shifting Charles to one arm to open the doors, when they open, and her vision is no longer filled with mahogany but the serious face of the person she wants to see least at the moment.

Moira stares as Erik stares stoically back at her, before his expression turns surprised as he notices the unconscious Charles in her arms. "What-"

"Move." Moira practically bites out, regarding Erik with intense dislike in her eyes. "I have to get him inside."

Erik stares at her, at Charles for a while before he shakes his head and his gray-green eyes narrow. He moves towards Moira. "Give him to me."

"No." Moira growls fiercely, cradling Charles protectively. "Now get out of my sight."

Erik is naturally a dangerous man, a man whom people would be afraid of. When he scowls, he looks practically menacing, but Moira finds she doesn't care at all. She is nowhere near as afraid as she should be of Erik Lensherr. After all, she could be a pretty scary person too; especially when her love is in danger of being hurt, again.

"Listen, and listen to me carefully," Erik is snarling now, his green eyes filled with frustration and dark anger. "If you don't hand Charles over to me now, I am going to strangle you, and I will not care if your death is to be on this doorstep."

Moira has to give Erik credit – he is not surprised at all when she gives a dry laugh which surprises even herself. "Right, strangle me then." She smirks at him tauntingly. "Use your _mutation_ and cut off my air supply and make me drop and injure Charles. Would it please you if he gets a concussion?"

Erik hesitates at that. But he is still blocking the doorway with his large figure. In rapidly rising frustration, Moira shifts Charles, carefully to one arm and whips out her gun, pointing it directly at Erik's temple. She would not usually resort to violence, but this was a man who would only understand actions and not words.

"Get out of my way. Now. And if you refuse, I will not hesitate to shoot you. I assure you, I have very good aim." she says, anger clouding her calm voice. "And if you are planning on deflecting my bullets, go ahead."

"They will either hit Charles or me, and let's see how you feel if it's the former," she smirks dryly at the enraged Erik "Go on, I dare you. Let's see how much more cruelty you can dose out to him."

But Moira knows she would never have said such a thing, even in her anger, if she had not been one hundred percent sure Erik would heed her warning. They might loathe each other to the core, but they both cared greatly about Charles.

Erik growls and glares at her like an alpha male, for a moment looking like he was sorely tempted to do exactly what Moira had dared. But it is only a moment, and he soon grits out.

"Fine. But remember this, he is _mine_." He sends her a cold glare, lips curling mockingly. "You might be the one carrying him in your arms right now, but _his_ heart will always belong to me."

There really wasn't anything else Erik could have said to send shock and anger filling her mind at the same time, Moira thinks dryly. She hates the notion of what Erik has claimed, hates it because she knows it is true, because she herself had admitted it to him before.

"Well, fuck you," The words leave Moira's lips in a low growl before she can stop them. "Charles may love you, absurdly, but I'd be damned before I give him to you when _you_ are still unworthy of his love."

Erik opens his mouth and Charles is still burning up in her arms, but Moira is in a rage. "You think just because Charles loves you, you can treat him any way you want, that you can hurt him?_!_" She practically bellows at him. "Get this straight, Erik Lensherr. The reason why the man we both love is hurt and sick now is because of _you_, and if you think I am going to just hand him over to you willingly, you are _sorely mistaken_."

Moira sees Erik snap, and she is sure he would have had her by the neck right now if she wasn't carrying Charles.

"How _dare_ you say that, you interfering human?" Erik hisses, and he looks positively scary but Moira is too furious to care. "How dare you assume I would hurt him when you know nothing about our relationship?_!_"

"Because that is what you _have_ been doing!" Moira screams at him. She cannot believe they are having this argument again, cannot believe that she is having a shouting match with this infuriatingly stubborn man when Charles is still in her arms and in need of medical attention.

A part of her is sorely tempted to pull back the trigger of the gun she is still pointing at Erik. But her arm is getting tired supporting Charles and she makes a noise of frustration, jamming the gun back into her pocket and holding the man she loves with both her arms again.

"What's happening?_!_"

Moira and Erik turn their gaze to Raven, who is behind Moira and staring at them in worry, then surprise, as she sees Charles in Moira's arms.

"Oh god...is he alright?_!_"

"He doesn't look alright," Hank, who is next to her, says worriedly. "He looks like he has a fever."

"Raven," Moira says in relief. She nods her head to Hank. "You're right. He collapsed when we were walking in the sun. He's burning up."

Hank nods, his gaze worried but determined. "I'll get a doctor immediately." He says decisively.

"No that's alright, I can contact Charles's doctor," Raven says quickly. "We should get him inside."

Moira shoots a smug look at Erik, whom growls and at last, moves aside. They glare at each other hatefully before Moira shoves past him as roughly as she can while carrying the object of their affections.

"If he gets more sick, it's all your fault." She hisses, near to his ear. "If this is how you show your concern for the person you love then I will _never_ give him to you."

With those words, Moira stomps angrily forward towards the stairs, a contrast to her inward gratefulness for Charles not once stirring during her entire conflict with Erik.

* * *

><p>"How is he?"<p>

Charles's doctor pushes up his spectacles, looking at them with a frown. "He has a high fever of 104 degrees Fahrenheit."

A ripple of shock goes through the occupants of the room. 104 degrees Fahrenheit; that was about 40 degrees Celsius.

"Why didn't I notice?" Raven whispers, regret in her green eyes. She clenches her fist. "He said he was fine…"

"Charles always says he is fine." Moira says softly. She inhales, then turns her attention to the doctor. "What should we do?"

"Well, to reassure you, it seems the only thing affecting his body now is his fever," the doctor says with a slight smile. "Other than that, he is fine."

"I will prescribe him some medicine, of course," he says. "Just make sure he drinks a lot of water and stays in bed. Someone should also always be monitoring his condition to make sure it doesn't worsen. The weather is stifling nowadays."

"Alright. Thank you doctor." Erik, who is leaning against the wall, says before Moira can.

Everyone looks at him, surprised, having never heard him thank anyone before. But Charles's doctor just gives him a genial smile. "You're welcome."

He gets up from the chair beside Charles's bed. "Well, I guess I shall be on my way."

"I'll settle the issue of payment," Raven says as she follows the man. "Erik, come with me."

Erik raises an eyebrow. "Why should I?"

"Because you're the only conscious adult in this house," Raven says simply. She jerks her head. "Let's go."

Erik frowns, but brings himself off the wall. He strides heavily after Raven and the doctor, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

There is a moment of heavy silence, before Moira turns her gaze away from Charles's unconscious form and to the boys occupying the room. "Could you leave me alone with him? I'll take the first shift of watching over Charles."

Alex scowls. "Now wait just a second-"he begins, but Sean lays a hand on his arm.

"How can we be sure we can trust you with him?" Sean says, in an unusually serious voice.

"Because unlike your _Dad_, I would never hurt Charles," Moira says half sarcastically. "Unlike him, I actually appreciate the kindness he has shown towards me."

She does not tell them the truth – that she is in love with Charles, with the Mum of their little family. She was still an intruder to them, and she highly doubts they would understand.

"Well, she did carry the Professor all the way here…" Hank points out hesitantly but logically.

Alex grits his teeth, and Moira could tell he hated to agree with Hank. "Fine." He growls, and Moira thinks of how his attitude is strangely similar to Erik's. "You better take good care of him, Agent McTaggert, or there'll be a price to pay."

Then he whirls and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. But Moira is unaffected, and turns her gaze to Sean and Hank. Alex was just a teenage boy expressing his worry for one of the two parental figures in his life through the only way he knew how – violence and anger.

"Well?"

Sean sighs, and runs a hand through his hair, which is more messy than usual. Moira suspects he had just come down from flying. "I guess we can trust you." He says simply.

He turns. "Come on Hank, let's get back to training."

Hank hesitates, before he sighs, but his eyes are serious behind his spectacles as he looks at Moira. "Raven trusts you, so I guess I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

He turns, and Moira hears him speak to Sean as they head for the door. "Well Sean, I think I'll be in the lab instead."

"Not again Hank, you spend too much time in that lab of yours." Sean grumbles vaguely.

"This time it's because I want to help the Professor," Hank corrects his intentions. He puts his hand to his chin. "He's a mutant, and I once devised medicine for myself when I was sick. If I can just alter it to cure his high fever…"

"That's a great idea!" Sean seems to be smiling as he nears the exit of Charles's room. He reaches out his hand to open the door. "If that's the case I'd like to join you in developing a cure."

"I suppose you could help," Hank says, surprisingly agreeable. "Just ask before you touch anything without me giving you the permission to."

"You sound like a true scientist, Hank," Sean teases. But he laughs as he steps out into the hallway. "But don't worry, I won't. I'm not Alex."

"Good." Hank says, then closes the door behind him.

At the boys' departure, Moira is left alone in Charles's room with him. At any other time she would have wondered why the boys held such distrust towards her, but now she is focused on Charles's pale face.

"They are really protective of you, Charles," she whispers as she reaches out to intertwine her fingers with the sleeping Charles's, bringing their fingers close to her heart. "You would be proud."

She closes her eyes, inhaling and exhaling and trying to calm down the various emotions in her mind. She was here now, right beside Charles. He had always showed concern for and tried his best to take care of her like he did everyone else, and now it was her turn to do the same for him.

Moira smiles. She leans forward, brushing her lips against Charles's warm forehead.

Moira realizes she has finally gotten the chance to be the one to care for and protect the man she loved, and she would let Erik Lensherr strangle her with her own metal before she gave it up.


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: Hello again everyone...I do hope it hasn't been that long since I last posted a chapter._

_As usual, thanks to everyone who read and reviewed. :) I've read all your reviews quite a few times and am grateful for the support and interest you show in my story, despite the delay. Even now, it it still surprising (pleasantly) to receive so much feedback. I also appreciate the constructive criticism. I have kept my readers' wants in mind and tried to explain the situation while writing this chapter, so I hope I was successful to some degree._

_I am kind of too tired to give this chapter a look through, so I apologize in advance for any mistakes...but I did skim through it. Hope you enjoy reading this chapter, though it's kind of passive._

_**Disclaimer: I don't own X-men First Class or its characters.**_

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><p>Moira is one hundred percent certain she hates Erik Lensherr.<p>

She is especially sure of this fact when the peaceful silence is broken when the Holocaust survivor opens the door- mentally, she thinks, and treads none too softly across the room.

She tries to ignore his presence, until he is at Charles's bedside, speaking in a low voice. "How is he?"

It takes her a few seconds to realize he is talking to her. Without looking at him, she says, "He's fine, except for his fever. Have you gotten his medicine?"

She says the last question like a statement, and Erik answers gruffly. "The doctor says he should take the medicine only after a meal."

"Charles hasn't been eating properly for the past few days." Moira cannot stop herself from saying, resentment in her voice, at the memory of how light he had felt in her arms.

She is still not looking at Erik, but hears him reply, "Do you think I am not aware of that fact?" He is speaking stoically, but Moira can hear frustration laced in his voice.

Moira finally turns her gaze to Erik, and sees him looking at Charles, an emotion in his eyes she has never seen him openly display before. He then turns to her, and when he meets her eyes, he does not regard her with the hatred in his veins but with what looks like grudging acceptance.

Moira watches as Erik turns. "I'm going to make something for him to eat." He says the surprising statement like a fact.

"Don't you dare leave his side until I come back."

Raven must have said something to him; is what Moira thinks as she watches Erik leave her alone with Charles with no lack of surprise in her eyes. She must have said something to Erik, probably about Charles, for him to be so civil to her, and even giving her permission for her to stay with Charles – not that she needed it.

Erik closes the door in a surprisingly silent manner and Moira inhales, before turning her attention back to the sleeping Charles.

Moira knows she is a person who has always been able to read people; which was part of the reason for her current occupation. Although she hated Erik, she had relished in the fact that she could mostly tell what kind of a person he was, from his background, his actions and personality- for it gave her an advantage over him.

But Erik had just thwarted her expectations. She had tensed slightly the moment he had entered the room and interrupted her time with Charles, sure they were going to get into another shouting match over who should be allowed to stay and watch over Charles. The children had been easy to convince to leave, though not without some degree of reluctance, but Erik Lensherr, the man they referred to as their Dad, would be a different matter altogether.

Thus the only answer was probably that Raven had said something to him. Moira could see that Erik held a sort of respect for Raven, especially when she was in her blue form. If there was anyone other than Charles who could talk to Erik and make him listen to them, it was Raven.

It is then that Moira hears the door creak open softly. She blinks and turns, surprised that Erik had returned so fast, but is met with the sight of the object of her thoughts.

Raven gives her a smile, a weak smile. She steps into the room, closing the door as softly as she had opened it. Moira watches her walk across the room to join her at Charles's bedside.

She leans over and places a hand on Charles's forehead, frowning worriedly. "He really is sick…" she says softly.

Moira looks at her, and Raven continues, "Charles hasn't fallen sick for years." She explains, her voice soft. "The last time I remember him being sick was when he was still in college, when he overworked himself with restless nights and things he insisted he had to do."

Raven sighs, and brushes a strand of hair to the side. "I should have noticed…" she says sadly. "I should have noticed it when Hank, Alex and Sean all insisted on being able to train themselves. I should have noticed he was unwell when he left early at every meal, I…should have noticed the tiredness in his eyes."

"Why didn't I?"

"It's not your fault, Raven." Moira tries to comfort her friend. She hates seeing Raven like this, hates the guilt and regret in the green eyes of her normally bright and vibrant friend. "I…didn't notice he was feeling unwell either."

"Erik noticed," Raven pointed out suddenly, as if just realizing the fact. She gives a wry smile. "I saw him looking at Charles when he left early at every meal, hesitating before leaving to train on his own, or telling the boys he would supervise their training."

"I even saw him preparing breakfast for Charles," Raven says, a wistful look in her eyes. "I didn't know he could cook, but I caught him in the kitchen one morning. He told me to give the food to Charles when he woke and say I had made it."

"_Do you think I am not aware of that fact?"_

Moira bitterly remembers Erik's words. She is silent for a while, before settling on saying, "I don't understand him."

"Erik is not an easy person to understand," Raven admits, smiling wryly. "I don't think there is anyone whom truly understands him. Sometimes I don't understand him either."

"Except Charles."

Raven blinks, then looks at her. "Charles has always been an exception." She says the statement like it was a common axiom in the household, their household, but with something Moira does not recognize in her voice.

"I still think he is too kind for his own good." Moira says lowly.

She immediately regrets it when Raven regards her with disappointment in her eyes. "Erik is not a bad person, Moira." She says softly. "I thought I told you that before."

Moira sighs, running a hand through her hair. "I know." She says reluctantly as she meets Raven's eyes. This was her friend, and Moira found she didn't mind admitting some things she hated to admit to herself, if it was to someone whom she trusted. "I know, but…"

"I understand," Raven gives her a smile, much to Moira's relief. She pauses. "Just…try not to hate him too much, okay? If not for my sake, then for Charles's."

For Charles's sake? Moira bites her lip, thinking over Raven's words. Raven was requesting her to not hate Erik for Charles's sake. Could she do that? Could she put aside her hatred for the cold, ruthless man whom was undeserving of the love of her first love, so that he could have some peace of mind?

It takes her a moment to decide, but when she finds her answer, she is certain of it.

"Alright," Moira finds herself replying Raven. Her voice is soft and reluctant as she says, "Alright, I will try – for Charles's sake."

After all, if Erik was going to be doing surprising things like cooking food for Charles and supervising the children for him, for the sake of his well-being, then temporarily putting aside her hatred for Erik was a small matter to her.

Raven gives her a grateful smile. "Thank you."

Moira smiles back at her only mutant friend. She has to realize now that she had been, sadly, wrong. Raven had not talked to Erik before he had entered Charles's room a few moments ago. Judging by what Raven had said about him, Erik was a person who did everything of his own volition. And if he had put aside his animosity for her for Charles's sake, then she could do the same.

Moira doesn't know what to feel at this new piece of information. Deep inside, she had known that Erik wasn't as bad a person as he seemed to be, if Charles could trust him. Her love was kind, but far from naïve.

But having heard proof from Raven about what Erik had done for Charles without him noticing, it was like a harsh blow to her own solid, rigid set of ideals of Erik's attitude towards Charles. She'd had to grudgingly admit Erik probably loved Charles like she did, and put his harsh treatment of him to the fact that he was a man of pride whom had never fallen in love with anyone before and hated the notion of it.

And Moira had been sure, so sure that that had been what Erik Lensherr was thinking. Falling in love with someone included giving your heart to the person. It'd been difficult for her to admit she had finally fallen for someone, and she had a vague idea what the Holocaust survivor felt at the knowledge they shared.

Erik Lensherr had, or rather, had had a heart of cold stone, and Moira had guessed that he loathed the idea of giving it away. With his heart hardened by all the horrible and inhumane treatment of him during the Holocaust, he had probably never had the opportunity to find someone whom cared about him, or someone to care for and love.

And when that opportunity arose, he hadn't known how to deal with it, and had cultivated anger and resentment against the person whom he had fallen for and was inevitably hurting – or at least that was what Moira thought. She'd thought Erik hated the notion of hurting Charles, of hurting him with all his overbearing emotions, without being able to stop it, and had left his side not only to prevent hurting him any further, but also because he hated the foreign guilt at having hurt Charles.

But Erik was incredibly fortunate; and sometimes, Moira couldn't help but feel the slightest bit of guilt for resenting him for finally having the luck he had never had – luck in this issue of love which was foreign to both of them. The person he loved, loved him back. Charles returned Erik's love, and Moira couldn't understand why despite knowing – she had even _told_ him even though she assumed he had known, known that Charles loved him as much as Erik did him, Erik was still _not_ by Charles's side, despite what she had told him.

And if Erik was not by Charles's side, if he refused to tell Charles he loved him back, then that meant that Charles was open to anyone else; particularly her. And it had been understandably, _positively_ frustrating that despite not being by Charles's side like he was supposed to be, Erik had _still _fiercely defended his relationship with Charles, telling her _she _didn't understand, telling her that Charles was _his_ and his heart belonged to _him_, when _he_ had left the right to claim Charles's heart open to her and anyone else, not just him, like he could have had it as.

Moira shakes her head, narrowing her eyes. Erik Lensherr was one man she would never understand.

She had thought Erik Lensherr had been taunting her, taunting her that no matter what she did to gain Charles's attention, no matter the lengths she would go to, to care for him , Charles would always love him and not her.

And that had made her angry – hell, it would have made anyone as in love with Charles as she was furious, that they were being tempted, taunted to try for the affection of the person they love despite knowing they were already in love with someone else, someone seemingly undeserving of their love.

Yet, Moira does not regret what she did. She did not regret that she had shouted at Erik, fired harsh words at him until he had retaliated, until his taut control had snapped. She may have misjudged him, but he hadn't done anything to correct her perception of him. The only thing she regretted was being so absorbed in her hatred for Erik that she had not noticed Charles's condition, when Erik had.

It was extraordinarily selfless for Erik Lensherr to have been caring for Charles behind his back, without him knowing.

Moira is broken out of her thoughts when Charles stirs with a low groan. The sound captures her attention immediately, and she darts forward, speaking anxiously. "Charles?"

"Erik…" Moira feels a sharp stab of pain in her heart as the name of the man she hated and Charles loved escapes from Charles's lips before his eyes flutter open, revealing dazed blue irises.

"Moira?"

"It's me, Charles." She says almost desperately, unable to remove the worry from her eyes even at the mention of Erik's name from Charles. "Are you alright?"

Even in his unwell state, Charles manages a polite smile at her as he moves to sit up. "I'm fine, Moira. I'm feeling a tad bit feverish, but nevertheless fine."

"Stop. Stop, Charles," is it Raven whom speaks next and Charles turns his attention to her, and it is a testament to how out of sorts he is feeling that he has just noticed Raven's presence, noticed her bright green eyes filled with repressed tears. "Stop lying to us, to me."

"Raven…"

Raven shakes her head, tears in her green eyes. "You have a high fever Charles, a high _fever_," she repeats, as if she herself is unable to believe the fact, the fact which Charles had kept hidden from them. "You collapsed, and you say you're _alright_?"

Charles is silent as he meets Raven's hurt eyes, before he murmurs, almost too softly to be heard. "I didn't want to worry you."

But Moira supposes Raven's hearing is as sharp as hers, for she sees her friend reach forward to draw her brother into a tight hug. "You're always worrying about me Charles, why can't you worry about yourself for once?"

She seems to inhale. "I know you're a natural leader, that you feel the need to be responsible for everything. I know that you want to be strong so you can be a good example to the people you care about and everyone else."

"I may not be a telepath like you, but I know you, Charles," Raven is saying, saying what Moira has wanted to say to Charles for too long. She watches as Raven leans back to look Charles directly in the eye.

"But, even leaders fall sometimes." Raven is speaking softly, looking deeply into her brother's blue eyes. "Even you can fall, Charles. But when you do, someone will be there to catch you, and everyone will be there to take care of you."

Moira cannot help but wonder if the 'someone' Raven is talking about is her, for she was the one whom had caught Charles when he fell, literally. But she is soon drawn away from the notion with the reminder of both Raven's and Erik's words, just as the latter's voice sounds.

"She's right."

It is not only her whom turns at the sound of Erik's voice. He is leaning against the wall, just as he had been doing when the doctor had announced Charles had a high fever, but this time he has a bowl of porridge in his hand.

"Erik?" Charles speaks the man's name as if he cannot believe the sight of the man before him.

As Erik removes himself from the wall and advances towards them, Moira finds herself wondering how long he had been there, how much he had heard.

Raven has released Charles at Erik's presence. Moira sees Charles stare as Erik holds out the bowl of porridge to him. "Here." He says simply. "You haven't been eating, have you?"

Charles seems too surprised to say a word, so Erik says, "You have to eat before you can take your medicine."There is a tone of dryness to his placid voice. "Are you feeling well enough to eat or do you need me to feed you?"

Charles has the grace to flush lightly in embarrassment and he finally reaches out his hands to take the bowl of porridge from Erik. "No, of course not." He murmurs.

"I wouldn't mind, you know." Erik says suddenly, and as Moira watches Charles's blue eyes widen, she thinks it is fortunate he hasn't attempted to taste the porridge yet as she had a feeling he would have choked on it in his surprise.

Charles seems to want to say something, but it is either because of their presence or Erik's intense eyes that he lowers his gaze and hesitantly starts to eat the porridge Erik had given him.

"It's good." He says softly after a few spoonfuls. He raises his gaze. "Who made this?"

"He did." Moira finds herself answering, to not only her surprise. Even Erik is raising his eyebrow at her and she turns to meet his gaze, but not hatefully.

"Erik?" Charles asks as he meets Erik's eyes, who returns his attention to him with a short nod. Moira sees the hesitation in Charles's features but hope in Charles's eyes as he prods further, "Were you the one who brought me here as well?"

"No." Erik answers truthfully, honestly. He pauses. "I merely accompanied the person who brought you here."

Charles blinks. Then he turns to Raven. "Was it you, Raven?"

Raven shakes her head slightly, as Erik says, "It wasn't her."

Moira finds that she doesn't understand him again, especially when he moves his gaze to her, meeting her eyes. "She brought you here."

Moira sees Charles look at her, realization and surprise in his blue eyes. "Moira?"

She turns to him. "I'm sorry Charles, I know you probably wanted me to fetch someone," she doesn't glance at that someone. "But I couldn't just leave you alone."

Charles shakes his head, regarding her with an apologetic gaze. "I should be the one to apologize, Moira. I'm sorry for troubling you." He gives a light smile. "I hope I wasn't too heavy for your back."

Moira falters. Of course Charles would assume she carried him on her back – most women wouldn't have had the strength to carry a man, or even the desire to. Had Charles not been forgoing his meals and not been training the children – running with Hank everyday, Moira doubted she would have had the strength to carry him all the way to the mansion, even with her rigorous training which she had undergone with the men in the CIA.

The thought not only made her worry at how extraordinarily light Charles had become, but also weighed her heart down, that since she was a woman, despite their friendship, Charles would always view her in a more sympathetic light.

It was not that she didn't appreciate Charles's caring nature, she just wanted him to – Moira thinks about Raven's words; worry about himself more. Yet, she also wanted to be the one to take care of him, to catch him when he fell, to show him that she loved him, even if he didn't love her back.

Moira bites her lip. That was right – Charles didn't love her back. And she wasn't the one whom could take care of him the best, whom he wanted to care for him.

She thinks of Erik, of how she had been angry at him for wanting to take Charles away from her arms into his. She thinks of how her arms had been straining while ascending the stairs while carrying Charles, yet she had gritted her teeth and refused Hank's offer of offering to carry Charles instead, especially as she had felt Erik Lensherr's gaze trained on her.

Her thoughts go back to Erik again, of the hard features of his face, of his background as a Jew in the Holocaust. She knew he was stronger than her, especially physically – even working out in the gym with the other men in the CIA couldn't compare to the natural strength one's body would gain from travelling all over the world and hunting ex-Nazis, like Erik had done once he had managed to escape and was old enough to understand the concept of killing for revenge. He had taught himself to be bloodthirsty, taught himself the thirst for revenge.

Without a doubt, Erik was physically strong, even without his mutation. And Moira realizes with a start he is mentally strong as well – _Charles_ had called him his only equal.

"Moira?"

Charles is looking at her with concerned eyes and Moira realizes she had zoned out. She smiles at him, her quick mind remembering what he had last said to her. "No you weren't, Charles."

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Erik glance at her. "Actually-"

Moira doesn't know why Erik is about to tell Charles what he had argued with her over, but it doesn't stop her from darting his gaze to his, meeting his eyes seriously with a hint of warning.

"Yes, Erik?" She hears Charles ask curiously as Erik's eyebrows furrow.

"It's nothing Charles," Erik says. He holds her gaze for half a second more, something Moira doesn't recognize in his dark eyes, before he turns his attention back to Charles. "You should finish the porridge so you can take your medicine."

Charles eyes him, but nods. "Alright." He says. A smile forms on his lips. "Thank you for making this for me, Erik."

Moira looks down as she feels her pager vibrate in her pocket. She fishes it out, pressing a button and frowning at the message on the screen.

She looks up. "I apologize everyone, but I have to leave for a while." She says formally. "CIA's orders."

Raven turns to her, giving her a nod. "Alright," her friend gives her a smile. "Take care, Moira."

Moira returns Raven's smile. Automatically, her gaze shifts to Charles, who smiles at her. "Be safe." He says, his smile conveying the genuineness in his words.

Moira feels her heart skip a beat. "I will."

The CIA agent gets up from the chair. With a short inhale, she turns, making her way out of the room. Unable to help herself, she glances one last time at Charles, but catches Erik's eye.

Erik doesn't say anything, merely gives her a short nod. Moira finds herself nodding back, and as Erik moves his gaze back to Charles, she turns and resolutely exits the room.

She would trust Erik Lensherr with her love –_ their_ love for Charles, for now.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: To all my readers; I am so sorry everyone! I know it's been like months since I last updated, and I admit the only excuse I have is that I have been near obsessed with my other X-Men First Class fic, _Memory_, 'cause of its interesting and suspenseful plot, to me.

I would like to thank my readers for their reviews and persevering interest in my story. I do hope this chapter will appease for my extended absence...I wrote it today, for once not planning and writing as I go along, by instinct; as I felt that if I did not write today my interest in this story would die away, and I did not want to disappoint, anymore.

_**Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men First Class and its characters.**_

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><p>Moira does not know what she should feel.<p>

She does not know if she should feel frustrated and annoyed that she had to leave Charles's side and leave Erik in his care, or if she should feel relieved for Erik seemed to genuinely care for Charles after all, and wasn't abusing his trust. She isn't sure if she should feel sad – at the look on Charles's face at the sight of Erik, or happy for him as his bond with Erik was slowly but starting to be established again.

It had been a long day for her – she had had to return to CIA headquarters for a long, boring meeting, which was only useful at the end when her superior started to actually talk about Sebastian Shaw and his plans for a nuclear holocaust.

Moira had snapped to attention then, listening attentively for the sake of the mutants she had taken residence with, and they had all come to the conclusion that the CIA and Charles and his team of mutants would take action after President Kennedy's speech, which her superior claimed he would make a few days later. She couldn't help but wonder about his status if he had only realized it then.

They had been dismissed from the meeting after that, but Moira had been prevented from going home by a whole stack of paperwork her superior had said casually he had put on her desk for her to complete. She had clenched her teeth, resenting the fact that it was always her that had to do _all_ the paperwork, but had given him a stiff nod as reply.

He had not been being sarcastic when he had told her she better get started on the paperwork for there was a lot of work for her to complete; brushing it off to her extended stay at Charles Xavier's mansion, even though _he_ was the one who had told her she had to keep an eye on the mutants.

Moira had worked all day, signing piles and stacks of papers as fast as she could, only pausing when her stomach could not bear the lack of food any longer. She had gone out to get refreshments, and had had to bear with the sweltering heat of the afternoon sun. But it had at least been a change from the hot and stuffy room of her office in the CIA headquarters.

She had felt better after eating, and had felt especially frustrated when she had returned, to find her colleague putting another stack of papers on her desk and telling her sarcastically it was good that she had completed some of the paperwork, for there was more coming in. Moira had had to seriously resist the urge to punch him in his smirking face.

But she understood her position in the CIA and what it entailed, and it was something she just had to accept, whether she liked it or not. So she had just gritted her teeth, sat at her desk and worked on the seemingly never ending paperwork.

Moira sighs, brushing the back of her hand across her forehead at the memory of the tiring ordeal. She is exhausted; it seems making her sign all the paperwork had not been enough, her superior had ordered a training session for the CIA as well; even when she had not even finished the first task he had assigned her.

The CIA Agent wants nothing more than to collapse on her comfortable bed Charles had provided her along with a room in his mansion, and let the cool night air take her to sleep. But Charles had been on her mind during her absence from the mansion, and she decided she had to spend a moment to check up on him, hoping he was feeling better.

Moira is so overcome with fatigue that it takes her some time to make her way up the long, winding staircase to Charles's room. The door is closed, but she is able to let a small smile cross her lips when she discovers it is not locked.

Quietly, she opens the door, not wanting to disturb Charles if he was asleep. Moira takes silent steps into the room, walking slowly to Charles's bed, whose occupant seems to be fast asleep.

But her sharp ears hear the creak of a door opening, and she quickly backtracks into the shadows, just as Erik emerges from the bathroom, striding over to Charles's bed.

He stands beside Charles's bed, the hard features of his face looking softer somehow in the light of the desk lamp near Charles's bed. It is late and Erik looks tired, but his eyes are a startling green in the lamplight.

His hair is slightly wet as if he had just washed his face. Moira abruptly realizes she is witnessing a personal moment as Erik leans forward, placing a calloused hand gently on Charles's cheek, green eyes bright with repressed emotions.

"It's my fault, isn't it?" Erik says, so softly Moira can barely hear him. "It's my fault you've fallen sick."

"Raven told me the last time you were sick was when you overworked yourself in college," he remarks, smiling wryly. "Do I really have such a big impact on your well being, Charles?"

Moira watches as Charles shifts a little, eyes closed, and Erik continues, "It was hard, being away from you. It was hard pretending I didn't care, pretending I didn't notice how tired you looked."

"I'd thought that the greater the distance was between us, the less you would be troubled, the less you would be hurt," Erik is saying, his voice low as he stares at the sleeping Charles. "But you proved me wrong, just like you had when I thought I was alone."

"I was wrong Charles, I was wrong to think that you would be better off without me, wrong to think that I didn't need you," there is emotion in Erik's eyes as he speaks, emotion which Moira has never seen him openly display before. "I was wrong to drive you away, wrong to think I didn't want you by my side anymore."

Moira watches, silent as Erik moves his hand to Charles's forehead, brushing locks of soft brown hair to the side, his usually rough voice soft in quiet admittance.

"Because I do."

Moira would have never envisioned Erik Lensherr to be a man to talk to himself, to express his emotions in monologue. She never would have thought Erik would express all he felt to a sleeping person, to a sleeping Charles.

But she realizes there is too much she does not know about him. She had been very still as Erik talked, afraid he would notice her presence. Part of her was drawn to leave the room, as Charles seemed to be alright and Erik was by his side, but the other, more hidden part of her wanted to stay, to witness the mysterious man unravel his thoughts, his feelings. She wanted to stay, to learn more about Erik Lensherr, to make clear his true intentions, to try to see the good Charles and Raven had found in him.

Moira inhales. She remains utterly still and as silent as the shadows of the room, hiding herself in them. Erik seems to not have noticed her presence at all, his attention completely focused on their love, whom stirs at Erik's hand on his forehead.

Moira watches, watches in surprise as Erik's green eyes widen slightly at the sight of Charles opening his eyes, meeting surprised green with soft blue.

"I feel the same, my friend," he confesses softly, seeming to take a breath as he meets Erik's eyes. "I missed you, Erik."

Erik gapes a little, and it would have been funny and amusing had the moment not been an emotional one. "I thought you were asleep."

Moira feels a tiny smile tug at her lips as Charles looks at Erik, his smile slightly sly. "I woke up at the sound of your voice."

"How much did you hear?" Erik asks, never removing his gaze from Charles.

Charles inhales. He reaches a hand up to place on Erik's wrist, staring into Erik's eyes. "Everything."

Moira sees Erik look at Charles. Slowly, he draws his wrist away to intertwine his fingers with Charles's. There is something indescribable in his green eyes as he leans down, and before their lips touch, Charles raises his free hand, bringing it around Erik's neck.

Moira has to withhold a gasp as Erik and Charles kiss. They do not make any sound in the romantic act, as if the kiss was not at all a passionate one like one would expect it to be. She realizes they are just brushing their lips against each other's, kissing but not quite, to feel the other, to convey their emotions to their most important person.

Their bodies are still, their mouths moving only slightly. Still, it is a while before Erik releases Charles's mouth, bringing his face slightly away from the other man.

"Would you think I was mad if I say I'm in love with you?" Erik speaks suddenly. His lips curve. "Because I am."

Charles blinks, then smiles, smiles a smile so genuine and bright that Moira is sure it is not only her heart which has skipped two beats. "Great minds think alike, don't they Erik?"

Erik smiles, a true genuine smile, and it is as surprising a sight as his words were. "They do, Charles."

With those words, he bends and kisses Charles again, who is ready to receive him. Their second kiss is more passionate, as Erik untangles his fingers from Charles's, using both hands to cradle his face carefully as he kisses him deeply, as they make sounds which causes Moira's face to warm.

Moira watches, heart beating fast in her chest as they separate, smiling at each other with what she is now sure is love in their eyes – which she realizes had been love all along.

"I love you." Charles says, confirming her realization, in such a sincere voice full of his love for Erik that Moira feels her heart breaking slowly in her chest. She looks at Charles with conflicted emotions in her brown eyes as he smiles, happiness shining in his blue eyes. "I love you, Erik."

"As do I," Erik says, his rough voice unusually tender. He hesitates, before removing his hands from Charles's face. "But she is right, Charles. I don't deserve you. I hurt you."

Moira doesn't know which she should be more surprised at – at Erik's admission that she, his love rival whom he hated, had been right in saying he did not deserve the man they loved, or the self-deprecation and guilt in Erik's low voice. She is surprised Erik even remembers the harsh words she had said to him, she had been sure he had forgotten about them- he didn't seem the type to dwell on another's judging of his character.

This is a new side to Erik she has never seen before, and it is hard to believe the man in front of her is the same man whom had killed ex-Nazis with no mercy, whom had glared at her with fury in his eyes while threatening to kill her, whom had hurt Charles, the one person he trusted and loved, and almost caused him to shed tears.

The man she sees is one she feels like she has never seen before. The Erik she is witnessing is a vulnerable being, speaking words no one except the one whom loved him would ever imagine he was capable of even thinking.

It is this Erik which Charles reaches his hands out to, this vulnerable man whom he draws into his arms, with nothing but understanding and love in his blue eyes. "That doesn't matter to me, Erik."

"I'm sorry," Erik begins in a rasp, but stops as Charles puts a finger on his lips. His lips move. "Charles?"

Charles merely smiles beautifully at him. He removes his finger from Erik's lips. "Do you love me, Erik?"

"Yes," Erik says immediately, his voice almost reverential as he stares into Charles's deep blue eyes. "I love you, Charles."

"Then you have nothing to be sorry for," Charles says generously, smiling with shining contentment in his eyes. "To have you return my love for you – that is enough for me."

Erik stares. Then he returns Charles's smile in relief, meeting Charles's eyes as he says, "I will never leave your side again. This I promise you, Charles."

"Erik my love," Charles says tenderly, with happiness in his voice. And as he leans forward, raising a hand to cup Erik's cheek and initiating their third kiss of the night as he touches his lips to Erik's, Moira turns and quietly makes to leave the lovers to their privacy.

The door is still opened slightly, and Moira opens it as softly as she can. She steps out into the hallway, reaching out her hand to the handle and turning it to close the door with a whisper of a sound behind her.

She is wide awake now, with thoughts racing around in her mind and her body moving as if on autopilot as she moves across the hallway.

Surprisingly, her first clear thought is that Charles hadn't noticed her presence. He had been so engrossed in Erik, in the surreal moment, so touched by the words of the man he loved he hadn't noticed her standing like a statue at the doorway. Moira thinks of the times Charles had turned around to greet her with his smile, sensing her approaching presence before she even spoke a word.

As Moira descends the stairs, she feels the first tear roll down her cheek. She is nowhere close to sleeping, and she knows, blearily, where her new destination is.

* * *

><p>It does not take her long for her to reach her destination – the piano in the mansion. As she makes her way towards it, Moira remembers that night – recalls hearing Charles playing the beautiful melody, playing for the absent Erik, looking like an Angel in the moonlight, an Angel whom did not belong to her.<p>

Charles had given her confirmation of that fact himself, Moira thinks as she sits down on the black piano chair, reaching out her hands to lift the lid. She remembers her love calling Erik _his_ _love_ and swallows, hurt stirring in her chest.

Moira stares at the black and white keys, wondering dazedly what song she should play. She cannot help but feel anger, anger and jealousy and envy at Erik only needing to attempt to apologize, and make a promise she doubts he will be able but at the same time hopes he will keep, to get Charles to call him his love.

She is tempted to play a loud song, a harsh and fast song to express her anger at the injustice of the situation; anger and frustration that she had always been the one there for Charles, _her_ love, but he had ended up giving his heart to the hostile, cold, broken Erik, like Erik had claimed.

Moira knows why Charles had chosen Erik – knows Erik is his only equal. But it doesn't stop her from wondering what he had that she didn't. Was it because he was a mutant? Was it because he could protect Charles from danger? Was it because he could be a good father to the children?

When Moira puts her fingers to the keys, different memories are filling her mind. Memories of Charles, of her love looking heartbroken at Erik's rejection, of him looking relieved but hesitant at Erik's offer of the porridge he himself had made, of the love and understanding in his eyes as he brings Erik close to him.

When Moira plays, it is a smooth, light but sad melody. She has not touched the piano for quite some time, but she supposes the saying that you never truly forget something you've learnt is true as her fingers moves across the keys in an almost automatic fashion, contrasting the emotional melody they produce.

As Moira plays, tears slip out of her brown eyes, sliding down her cheeks. She sheds tears, tears of frustration, sadness and the hurt in her breaking heart; silent tears, as she plays the song which is bringing her to tears for the second time.

Her throat is dry, clogged with tears of heartbreak as she plays to try to express the hurt and sadness in her heart. She is tempted to sing in an attempt to express her emotions through the music in the air, but her attempt at the first note comes out in a choked sob.

She wonders how Charles had done it, remembering how he had been playing the piano to alleviate his feelings for Erik. She wonders how he can play such an emotional and heartbreaking melody without crying, wonders how he had retained all that sadness and heartbreak in his shining blue eyes.

Moira only gets to play the first verse and chorus of the song before she breaks. Her fingers still on the keys, Moira lets out a pained gasp, releasing the sobs from her throat as she lowers her head, her heart slowly but surely breaking in her chest.

It hurt, it hurt so much. It hurt more than the time she had been shot close to a fatal spot in a dangerous CIA mission, hurt more than when she had realized she had hurt Charles. It hurt both emotionally and physically, and Moira is at a lost as to what to do– what to do to cease the pain and hurt emerging suddenly in her broken heart.

For the first time, she finds herself regretting loving Charles. She finds herself regretting loving the insanely kind man with his pretty blue eyes and genuine smile, his accepting nature and resolved mind. Moira finds herself regretting loving Charles, to the extent that she would do anything for him, anything for him to be happy, even if it meant she wouldn't have his love.

For that is what she knows she would do, knows what she must do. Charles has already declared himself to Erik, has already declared his love for him. There is nothing she can do anymore, nothing she can do that will make Charles love her. Perhaps that had been the way from the start.

Love hurt. Moira thinks insanely, that it is nothing like the love in fairytales she had found herself wanting to have when she had been a little girl, hoping that when she grew up she would find her own Prince Charming with his pretty blue eyes, gentlemanly nature and handsome face- that she would find someone whom loved her just as much as she loved him; someone who could make her happy.

Fairytales were nothing but a lie – they spoke nothing of the dark truth of unrequited love. They spoke nothing of a dark prince whom Prince Charming would fall absurdly in love with, despite his gender, despite his cold eyes and nature, despite all the odds against them.

Moira sniffs. She inhales, and exhales, trying to calm herself down. Her heart is broken, by Charles, by the man she loved.

But that didn't mean it was the end of the world.

When Moira is sure she has finished crying, she stands up. She removes her fingers from the keys, using her hands to close the piano lid.

It closes with a soft sound. Moira swallows. She turns, taking steps away from the piano and towards the exit of the room. She remembers the happiness in Charles's eyes, the tender way he had called Erik his love, and is unable to smile.

Moira knows she should be happy for Charles. And if she looks deep enough into her own mind, her own heart, she knows she is; happy for Charles that he was happy, that he had found love with someone else, even if it was not with her.

But right now, she is still hurt. Moira also knows she has just started on the long road to recovery, although she has doubts she will fully heal. She is hurt by unrequited love, and cannot feel the slightest bit of gladness, of happiness, even if it is for the man she loves.

For the second time in the day, Moira is not sure on what she should feel, as she exits the dark room, as silent as a shadow like she had been, while witnessing the extent of Charles's love for Erik, both in the past and in her own conflicted mind.


End file.
